The Rizzoli Kid
by saoulbete
Summary: This was quite possibly the worst way to end the worst day she'd had in a very long time. What the heck was she supposed to do? Set immediatly after 3x10
1. Chapter 1

A/N yeah, yeah, the fic writes itself after the summer finale. This is just…well, I don't know where it came from. I have all these other things I've been working on, including this long epic dark thing, but _damn_ that finale. It was like, designed for dozens of fics of domestic bliss involving Jane, Maura, and the Rizzoli kid. I'm honestly surprised that this site isn't already bursting at the seams with them.

"He's so small." It was amazing, really, the effect that having a newborn thrust in front of her had. She didn't know where the hell these protective feelings had come from, she just knew that no matter what she wanted to protect this child, keep him safe, and make sure that everything good happened to him. She could see ten tiny fingers, five of which reached up to wrap around one of her fingers, and it caused a sudden lump in her throat. But she was Jane Rizzoli, fearless detective. She did _not_ cry when her nephew, or brother, whatever this _thing_ was reached out to her. The little lips twisted up into a smirk of sorts, and with the deep brown eyes, there was no doubt that this child was a Rizzoli.

"Can I-" Maura didn't even need to finish the question before she was handing the child off, the sudden realization of what had just happened hitting her.

"What the hell – leaving a kid on your doorstep, after everything that happened, what the hell are we supposed to do –" She looked at the small baby carrier that the child had come in still sitting in the hallway, and up at her mother, hoping that Angela could come up with something.

"Well according to the Massachusetts safe haven laws, she can do this no questions asked." Maura said softly, rocking the baby in her arms. "I am a doctor, and you are a police officer, and she can leave the child with either of us without any questions." She froze, unsure of what to do.

"Yeah, but those laws, like, expect us to give the kid up to the system or something." She knew one thing, she'd seen enough foster kids grow up to be junkies, hookers or worse. There was no way that she was going to submit a child to that. And there was definitely no way in hell she was going to put a _Rizzoli_ child through that. Even Tommy would be a better parent than putting this kid in the system.

"Well, I may have a bassinet I bought still in the guest house, and some formula and diapers. I could bring that here for the night. It's too late to do anything else." She sighed at her mother's suggestion, knowing that Angela was right. She didn't even want to know _why_ Angela had a bassinet after she'd shoved all the baby shower shit at Lydia's mother, but she was rather glad. "C'mon Janie, help me move that stuff here."

"But-" she attempted to protest, until Maura nodded at her. Maura looked so calm with the child. So contented. So – _everything. _Like she was born to do that, sit on a couch, with a tear-streaked face, holding a baby. And after the day they'd had, she wasn't going to second-guess what Maura wanted. If Maura wanted a screaming, crying, shit-machine in the house, she'd gladly bring the bassinet over. She trudged over to the guest house, finding a bag to shove the formula and diapers in before carrying everything back, surprised when Maura told her to set everything up in the master bedroom.

To be honest, it wasn't someplace she'd seen that often. Normally the only time she spent in there was used to shake Maura awake when the ME had her phone off and they had a case. Usually it was done in pitch blackness, and she'd never really taken a good look around. She was surprised at just how subdued the room was. Calming. Quieting. The perfect place to stick a newborn, really. She went back down the stairs to see Maura sitting on the couch, gently cooing at the kid. It looked so natural. So _perfect._ And she found her breath catching and her feet stilling, content just to watch the scene of domestic bliss in front of her.

Her mother looked up at her, smiling softly, and she really didn't like the look in her mother's eyes. She knew that look. She knew she was about to be talked into something that she didn't really want to do. "So," She said, breaking the serene silence. "What're we going to do with, y'know." She nodded at the kid in Maura's arms.

"Well, raise him, of course." Her mother said, and she rolled her eyes.

"Ma-_cop_." She pointed at herself. "Frankie, cop. Tommy, colossal fuckup. Dad, gone. Who the hell is supposed to raise this kid?" She _really_ didn't like the look Maura gave her.

"Jane, he needs a family." She closed her eyes waging a war within herself. She knew Maura was right. It wasn't fair to the kid to grow up without anyone to love him. And she was his aunt, sister, whatever. She sulked over to the carrier that the kid had been dropped off in and rummaged through it, hoping for some sort of note or something.

"She didn't even name him. There's no birth certificate, nothing. She popped him out and ran off."

"Well he needs a name." Angela said, looking between the two of them.

"Yeah, _burden_." She spat back, earning her two reproachful glares. "Fine. Pick something." Angela and Maura, however, when put on the spot, drew a blank.

"Well Thomas and Francesco are out." Angela said, earning an uneasy smile. "Not going to name a child after a father when we don't even know who it is."

"First thing tomorrow, we're going to the crime lab and figuring out _who_ to dump that kid on. What about Cormac?" She suggested, and Maura bristled for a second, before looking down at the kid thoughtfully.

"That's a beautiful name." Her mother responded, not understanding the meaning behind it. To be fair, the only reason why Jane knew what it meant was due to one horrendously bad date with a man who refused to talk about anything but himself, whose middle name happened to be Cormac. "Cormac Rizzoli. I should call Father Benjamin, he should get christened soon-" Jane just looked at her mother blankly.

"Ma, doesn't he need, y'know, _parents_ for that?" She took in her mother looking between her and Maura and threw up her hands. "Look, you know what, I'll be back. I need – I need to think." She stepped out the front door, sitting on the step, wondering how the hell she had gotten into this mess. It was raining lightly, and she took in the smell of damp earth, relaxing slightly.

She was unsure of how much time had past with her lost in her own thoughts of what the hell to do with this kid before the door opened again and Maura sat next to her, sharing the silence. "What the hell do we do?" She asked, more to the darkness than the woman next to her.

"Well, I have a few days of enforced leave." Maura said the words as though they were physically painful, and she understood the feeling. There was nothing worse than being told that she _had_ to take time off by the department shrink. But apparently finding out the guy who left you high and dry months ago was a serial killer with you next on the list was one of those things that required a few days off. "I can look after him while we figure out what's going to happen to him." She smiled, slightly bumping her shoulder against Maura's.

"He seems to like you."

"He's less than a day old, he's going to sleep quite a bit." They lapsed into silence again. "Were you serious about naming him Cormac?" She gave a little half shrug.

"I mean, if Tommy or Pop or _whoever_ wants to change it, they have every right to. But it kinda fits."

"It's very – Irish." She gave another half shrug.

"So? It's not like we can keep calling him _The Rizzoli Kid._" Maura smiled slightly. "I'm sorry to dump this on you. It's my family, you shouldn't be stuck babysitting our fuckup." She thought it was a testimony to Maura's patience when she didn't even get corrected on her use of profanity. But this was quite possibly the worst way to end the worst day she'd had in a long, long time. This was worse than the whole Dominick incident. At least she'd been relatively sure she'd walk away from that one alive. This was the worst day since – well, Hoyt in the prison infirmary.

She was pretty sure she was never going to get the image of Maura with a knife to her throat, poised at the top of a three story drop out of her mind, and she hated that she'd felt so weak, so powerless at that moment. She'd frozen, she'd let panic overtake her when she saw Dennis there. But Maura had walked away with barely a scratch, outside of the emotional wounds of finding out that Dennis was another in a long line of losers.

"Jane – how many times does Angela refer to me as another daughter? Besides, I _want_ to do this. If nothing else, it will keep me occupied for the next three days."

"Yeah, but what happens then? Last time I saw dad was when he was trying to get Ma to sign for the annulment. I tried looking for him, but he's gone completely to ground. No one knows where he is. If this kid's his-" She scowled at the thought. "And if it's Tommy's it's not much better. I mean, really, Tommy is in no way fit to be a parent. He can't even get his own life together. _Well I'll get a house painting job._ Really? He thinks he can raise a kid like that?" She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, enjoying the comforting hand slung around her shoulders.

"Something will work out, Jane. It's late, you should come inside." She nodded, following Maura into the house. Angela had retreated back to the guest house, and she looked around for a second. "He's sleeping in the bassinet." She couldn't help herself, she had to peek in on the child. He looked so peaceful, sleeping soundly, and she reached out one finger to trace along a chubby cheek. He stirred slightly at the touch before falling into a deeper sleep.

She felt something hot and thick in her throat, wondering why the kid had her so emotional. It wasn't like it was _hers._ Weren't these the sorts of emotions you were supposed to feel when you realized that the kid was _yours?_ "I'll uh-" She gestured in the direction of the guest bedroom.

"You can stay here. It's highly unlikely that he'll sleep through the night, and, as you said he's _your_ family. If he's going to wake for a night time feeding or changing, then you should be subjected to it as well." She stuck her tongue out at Maura's teasing remark, before going to her usual side of the bed. "Uh-uh. One rule for my bed, no one sleeps in it without proper attire." She rolled her eyes, backing out of the bedroom.

"Fine, I'll be right back." She came back in a pair of boxers and clean Red Sox shirt, getting Maura's nod of approval, before slipping underneath the covers. "Jesus, Maura, how do you ever get out of this thing in the morning? If I had this bed, I'd never wake up, ever." She sank into the downy softness that surrounded her, enjoying the laugh next to her. It really was the most comfortable bed she'd ever slept on, blowing her own out of the water, and even more comfortable than the bed at the five star hotel she'd stayed in the last time she'd taken a day off to simply enjoy herself – which had to be what? Five, six years ago?

She gave a contended hum of pleasure, burying her face into the pillow. She turned her head after a long moment to look at Maura, who gave a long meaningful look back, and she tried to decipher what was going on in that big brain. "We should sleep." Maura finally said, glancing at the sleeping infant across the room. "While we still can." Jane laughed, before turning back into the pillow, letting sleep wash over her.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N yeah, this is going to keep me busy today between calls at work, I think. It's fun to write. Have a good idea of where its going, so there should be more when I get off work.

The first thing she did the next morning, after forcibly dragging herself out of the warm comfort of what she was quickly coming to dub _The Most Comfortable Bed in the World, _was track down her brother. "Jesus Janie, you look like shit."

"Thanks, Frankie, you look just so chipper as well." She paused, trying to figure out how to say what she was going to with a minimal amount of profanity. "Lydia dumped her kid on Maura's doorstep last night."

"What?"

"I look like shit because goddamn is taking care of a day old kid is harder than it looks. Have you seen her around? She's the one that got into this mess, she should be the one to take care of it." She held up the baby bottle in her hand. "And this, is supposed to tell us which fucked up member of our family should be stepping up to play daddy."

Frankie followed her down to the crime lab as she pulled Suzie aside. Tommy's DNA was already in the system – kinda hard to avoid it when you're a felon. Their father's however, wasn't, and Jane and Frankie looked between them, trying to think of anything they could that would have any remaining DNA of their father left on it. "Well, just tell me if it's a match." She settled on. Frankie was strangely quiet throughout everything as she sat heavily in Maura's chair, waiting for the results to come back. "What the hell are you thinking about over there?" She finally snapped.

"Who's watching the kid?"

"Maura. She's got three days of enforced leave after, y'know." She gestured at the morgue behind her. "Said keeping an eye on the kid would keep her busy."

"When'd the department shrink start treating the ME like a cop?"

"Oh, I don't know, Frankie. Maybe when the ME started dating a serial killer. Maybe when the ME started doing more cop work than half this damn precinct. I told her he was a creep." She folded her arms across her chest, staring at her brother. "Seriously, who the hell is going to raise this kid? Lydia dumped him off and ran off, Pop is off –somewhere, Tommy's not fit to be a parent, you and me work these crazy hours."

"There's this new invention in the twentieth century called working parents."

"You volunteering to take this kid?"

"Hell no. I'm just saying-" She glared at her brother's pointed look.

"Yeah, right. I have the maternal instinct of a charging rhino. Besides, where am I going to put him? I've got a crappy one bedroom apartment. Not exactly designed for children." Frankie was thinking. Jane knew that look, and she really didn't like it.

"So, this kid, he have a name?"

"Lydia didn't give him one." She melted under her brother's glare. "I may have suggested Cormac." Frankie raised an eyebrow. "It means son of defilement." Frankie chuckled. "What? It fits. And looks good on him. Cormac Rizzoli. Ma liked it."

"It doesn't sound too bad, does it? Jane, Frankie, Tommy, and Cormac, the Rizzoli siblings."

"You don't know if he's Pop's." As if on queue, Suzie walked in.

"Well, we have the quick results of the paternity test. Full results will be at least a week, but I can say without a doubt that this child is at least related to Thomas Rizzoli." Jane rolled her eyes.

"Well yeah, the kid's either his or his brother. Anything more than that?"

"You know Doctor Isles very much discourages any sort of guessing in her lab." There was a smirk on the other woman's face and Jane just rolled her eyes. When had the senior criminologist developed a sense of humor? "We won't know for sure until the full results come back."

"Great. A whole damn week we have to wait. Just flippin great." She paused, turning back to Suzie. "Thanks, Chen. And thanks for the rush on this." Even though it didn't give her the information she wanted, she knew the lab had dropped everything to do a silly little paternity test.

"So, what's going to happen when the doc's off her leave? Who's going to watch him then?"

"I don't know, Frankie." She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I know, let's open a daycare center in the middle of damn precinct." She was falling back on sarcasm to hide her frustration and anxiety. And she was anxious. Damn anxious. She wasn't just going to let her nephew or brother out to dry. After all, the kid was related to her, and she was fairly sure that no matter who the father of the child was that she was likely to be named godmother, and this was what godparents did, right? Make sure that the kid grew up _right?_

"You said it yourself Tommy would be a terrible parent. Could you imagine him with a little schmutz of his own? That kid wouldn't just be running over priests, he'd be driving a steamroller through a convent."

"I know."

"Jane, you're the best one out of all of us for this." Frankie's tone was quiet and she fought the urge to throw a pen at him. She had a feeling Maura wouldn't approve of a hundred dollar Cross pen that was used for 'every day writing' being used as a projectile.

"What, because I'm a woman?"

"No, but you're the most stable out of all of us. I still need Ma to cook me dinner half the time, I'm always working nights for the overtime, you're the one with the salary, you're the one that's mature enough to handle a kid. Besides, between you and the doc that kid'll have the best life ever."

"Since when did you start roping Maura into this?"

"C'mon Janie, you know she's not going to just let you flounder with this kid. She's got the smarts to tell you how badly you're raising it." She scowled at her brother.

"Gee, thanks."

"You know I'm right. Besides, Ma's always around, and you know that she's not going to keep her big nose out of this. She's probably going to do more to raise this kid than you will if you take it. And there's always like, daycare and stuff." She sighed. She knew she was the logical choice for this. Frankie was right. But it didn't mean she liked it.

She sighed as she headed up to her own desk, getting concerned glances from Frost and Korsak. "Before you even ask, Lydia dumped her kid on us. I don't know how anyone can voluntarily have one of those things. I've had it all of eighteen hours and it's already puked, shit, eaten and produced bodily fluids I didn't even know existed." She collapsed into her chair.

"So, what? You're just going to watch it?" Frost asked and she shrugged.

"For now. I mean, what else can I do? Turn around and leave it on someone else's doorstep?"

"Wait, she left it on the doorstep? Like, stereotypical out of some soap opera left the kid on your doorstep?" She nodded. "Shit, I thought that only happened in bad movies." She rolled her eyes at Frost.

"Well, I guess my life is a bad movie then. My best friend was dating a serial killer, nearly got killed, and then last night I answer the doorbell to find a damn baby sitting there." She sighed in frustration, wanting nothing more than to turn back the clock about fifteen months. Before Dennis. Before Dominick, before Doyle, before life decided to come and take a giant dump all over her.

Ok, so maybe she was going overboard with the fecal metaphors. "Seriously, if there's one thing that this kid has taught me it's that if I ever become a parent I'm adopting. An older one that comes already housebroken." Korsak gave her a sympathetic glance.

"How's Angela taking it?"

"I don't really know? I mean, last night she was fussing over him a little bit, but I think she's still trying to process it. All of a sudden, there's another little Rizzoli running around and apparently I'm suddenly the best one to be raising it. Look at me, if it wasn't for Maura I wouldn't even be able to dress in things that matched, I can't raise a damn kid."

"Whose watching it now?" Was everybody going to ask that question?

"Maura said it would keep her busy while the department shrink has her cooling her heels. Apparently nearly dying is something that earns you leave." Frost and Korsak shared a glance. "What?"

"The doc's pretty maternal."

"What, I'm just supposed to leave my family's little problem with her? She's my best friend but even _that_ is asking a bit much. And the kid needs a father."

"My dad wasn't around and I grew up pretty all right." She looked up at Frost.

"I rest my case." Frost merely gave a half-hearted laugh at her attempt at teasing. "This kid has two potential fathers, and they're both too chickenshit to do anything."

"Well, you've got to do something with it."

"Can't I just turn around and stick it back where it came from? It wasn't that bad when it was still in Lydia. And would be even better if it was in Lydia, while Lydia was in Florida. And not in Boston. Not with me, not at Maura's house, not anywhere in my life."

"New parents are always anxious." This time, she didn't resist the urge to throw her pen at Korsak.

"I'm not this kid's parent. I'm a glorified nanny until this kid's _parent_ can take over." She turned to her computer, trying her best to run a search for her father, and once again, coming up with squat. A constantly moving PO Box around various parts of the gulf as her father decided that fishing was the best thing for a new dad – or grandfather – to do. She sank her head into her hands, exhaustion and emotional turmoil finally getting the best of her. "Look, it's been a long day. If Cavanaugh asks, I have a migraine." It wasn't entirely a lie. She could feel the start of one building behind her left eye, a slow throb of increasing intensity.

She found herself packing a few things into a bag once she got home, and heading over to Maura's. She might as well get all good at this babysitting thing because right now it was looking like she might be doing it for a while.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N yeah, this is sorta writing itself. Like, literally. I just sit here and next thing I know there's more of it, and only thing I recall is having my laptop in front of me, and Law and Order on the TV. Also, thank god I didn't plan on making Cormac the kid's actual name, jesu christe y'all don't like that name. I will say between this and the Crosswords and Coffee series, my targeted google ads have completely switched over from alcohol and sports tickets to thinking I wanna get married and have lots of babies, but I know next to nothing about infants, since all my nieces and nephews were adopted, already housebroken, and outside of spending some time in the presence of my friends who have newborns I've had to google everything I know about these things. Thank y'all for the love and support you've shown this so far – seriously. Like it made my day at work seeing the alert light on my phone blinking and seeing _another_ follower. Makes me really happy. So thank you all, I love you all, and this all is for you.

"Angela?" she heard a voice call from the kitchen as she let herself in.

"Nope, just me."

"What are you doing home early?" She shrugged.

"Started feeling a migraine coming on. Couldn't handle being in there any longer." She was surprised to find that Maura was actually rather adept at holding a child with one hand and making something that smelled absolutely delicious with the other. "So, how's the kid been?"

"Quiet, surprisingly."

"Well he sure as hell had a set of lungs on him at two in the morning."

"We can be assured his pulmonary function is certainly adequate." She couldn't help the chuckle at Maura turning everything into doctor-speak. The kid started to squirm slightly, and she decided if nothing else, she better get used to this whole _holding it_ thing, and plucked him from Maura's arms.

It was surprising how easy it was to hold him comfortably, and how protective she felt holding him. This was – she was surprised at it. She was supposed to hate this little guy for completely turning her life upside-down. She didn't ask for this, at all. This wasn't supposed to happen to her. She was supposed to have a kid when she wanted one, not have one dumped on her. This kid wasn't even _hers._

So why did she feel so – she didn't even know what the emotion was. It was simply something inside of her that told her that no matter what, she was going to make sure that this kid got everything he needed in life. At least until she talked some sense into Tommy or her father or Lydia, and got them to raise their mess.

She watched as dark eyes opened, staring up at her, instinctively turning his head towards her chest. It didn't take a genius to get the hint. "Uh, Maur, I think he's hungry." She was genuinely surprised at the fact that Maura actually used a microwave for _anything, _even formula for a two day old thing that couldn't do more than guzzle the liquid and shit it back out. She'd honestly thought it was just there for decoration in the kitchen.

She was surprised at how quickly she was getting the hang of this babysitting thing. Diapers were easy enough – especially since her mother had brought over a package of the easy velcro kind. Feeding wasn't hard either, and she looked down at the little form in her arms, gently suckling at the bottle, and felt another wave of whatever it was that she was feeling wash over her. She tried to squash it down, compress it, do something to avoid feeling it, because she had the sense to know that if she indulged in this feeling, she might grow _attached_ to the runt in her arms.

The door opened again, and her head whipped up as she turned, surprised at just how instinctive the action of turning her back to the door had suddenly become. She'd _never_ done that before, but now that there was an infant in her arms, her body seemed to think years of academy training could go out the window. "Jane Clementine Rizzoli you did _not_ suggest naming this child something that is a reminder of the shameful way it came into this world." Jane gulped and found herself with an awkward grin on her face.

"You said it was pretty."

"I said it was pretty _before_ I knew what it meant. It is not this poor little boy's fault that his parents can't get their act together long enough to raise him properly or even get him christened properly, he doesn't need to be reminded of that fact every day for the rest of his life." She rolled her eyes at Maura's smirk, before looking back at her mother.

"Fine, what do you suggest?"

"Carmine is a pretty name."

"Yeah, Ma, Carmine Rizzoli. Did we walk into the Sopranos all of a sudden? The only thing worse would be naming him Guido and letting the jokes write themselves."

"Your uncle Guy is a wonderful man, don't mock his name. What about Matthew?" Angela suggested again and Jane looked down at the child in her arms, tilting her head slightly as she considered it, before looking up at Maura for the other woman's opinion. At Maura's slight shake of the head she did the same. "Mark?" She shook her head again. If nothing else, this kid was definitely not a Mark. "Luke?" She rolled her eyes.

"What, is this catechism class all over again? I know the books of the bible."

"Well then maybe you should pick a saint to name him after."

"Like who, Frumentius?"

"Ah, the man credited with spreading Christianity to northern Africa. He was actually quite a great schol-" Jane cut Maura's history lesson off with a glare.

"It was a joke. I just remember it being a silly name to giggle over in the fifth grade."

"Jacob?" Maura suggested, and she found herself tilting her head the other way as she looked down.

"What do you think of that, huh? Jake?" She pursed her lips before shaking her head.

"Sebastian?"

"That'd work as a middle name. Something Sebastian Rizzoli. Actually that has a ring to it. Something." Two reproachful glares were shot her way. "What? Kidding."

"Damien?" Jane laughed.

"Right, forgot, you've never seen the Omen." At Maura's blank look, she elaborated. "Horror movie, about the Antichrist, who happens to be named Damien." She found herself running through lists of famous people in her head, trying to think of something that would work. "Henry?" She pitched, finding that the motion of tucking the child over her shoulder and gently patting his back to be coming far too easily. "What do you think there little man? Hank? You wanna be a Hank?"

Maura looked like she hated the name, and it was another one scratched off the list. "James?" Angela suggested. "Stephen? Christopher?" Maura seemed to be regarding that last one and then the child.

"Christopher Aloysius?" Jane turned towards Maura with a _Really?_ Look on her face.

"Aloysius?"

"Yes, like Aloysius Bertrand, who was instrumental in bringing popularity to the prose poem, and who was the inspiration for a suite by Ravel that includes some of my favorite pieces. Or Aloysius Lilius the astronomer responsible for the Gregorian calendar."

"Or Al Simmons." Another blank look. "First player in the AL to drive in 100 or more runs in his first two seasons, had a career average of 334. Kinda continues the tradition of 'horrible middle names' the rest of us have."

"Christopher Aloysius Rizzoli." Angela tried the name out as she took the child from Jane's arms where she found he fit rather comfortably. "Oh, I'll go call Father Benjamin-"

"Ma, the kid's not getting baptized until he has real parents." Angela's glare on her was powerful. "What? You want him baptized, you go take him to Father BJ, and you get it done."

"Janie, don't call Father Benjamin that. And if you won't get this child baptized then yes, I will. But you two-" Angela pointed at them, "Are going to be there. If this child isn't going to have real parents, it will have two wonderful godmothers to watch over him."

"Angela, I really don't-" Maura's protestations were cut off by a glare from the elder Rizzoli.

"Nonsense. I know you don't believe in the church, but this child needs someone willing to raise him."

"Ma-" She had a feeling this was a losing battle. "Fine, but we are _not_ getting it done during mass. This is going to be you, us, Father Benjamin and the kid."

"You can stop referring to him as _the kid._ He has a name, now."

"For now, at least. Wait until Tommy gets a hold of him. Oh god, could you imagine if Tommy got to name him?" She pinched the bridge of her nose again at the thought. Knowing her brother the kid would probably wind up named Bruce Wayne Rizzoli or something as equally stupid. "We'd wind up with Clark Kent Rizzoli."

"Oh, I know that one, Superman, right?" She laughed at Maura's excited look at getting a pop culture reference.

"Yes, Maura, Superman." She found Angela handing the child back to her. "Not a bird, not a plane, but Superman." She found herself holding the child up in the air, swooping him gently, and while he wasn't quite old enough to be able to smile or laugh, she could tell the happy look in deep brown eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N and the first misconception is made….thank you all, again, so much for all the reviews and follows and favorites, and I'm honestly bowled over by how much you guys like this.

Three days seemed to pass entirely too quickly, and she found herself laying back in The World's Most Comfortable Bed wondering what was going to happen from here. "Ma has tomorrow off, but – then what?" She pondered aloud, staring at the ceiling. She turned her head to see Maura looking off in the distance, lost in thought.

"If you wouldn't be opposed to it, Gertrude-" Maura gestured at the house next door, "Saw me outside with Christopher earlier today, I explained the situation, and she was more than willing to look after him while we were at work. Apparently, her grandchildren have outgrown the _needing to be looked after_ phase as she put it, and she misses it."

"Gertrude, huh?" She'd met the woman a handful of times, mostly while walking Jo, and she did seem to recall that every time she saw the elderly woman there was a rapidly growing toddler in tow. "Can we just give him to her? She's definitely more fit to raise him than I am."

"Jane, while Gertrude is a wonderful woman to be willing to watch Christopher while we are at work, I doubt she want the – issues – that arise from watching a newborn all day as a permanent fixture in her life." She frowned, not liking the fact that Maura was right.

"I know, I was just hoping that maybe, maybe, we'd be able to get rid of him and go back to normal." She was surprised to find a hand that she knew normally spent the night supporting a great brain, as though the intelligence there was too much for just a pillow to support, darted out to wrap in hers.

"Jane, this may be _normal_. At least for us, at least for a while. I have all of my family and medical leave time-"

"No, you're not going to take your FMLA time for this. If anyone is taking time off, I'm the one that should be doing it." She sighed, hating the idea of that. She wanted the hope that tomorrow, Tommy would come around and decide to be daddy, that her father would come back from wherever the hell he ran off to – the most recent forwarding address as of this morning was Arizona, which definitely was _not_ for the fishing, and take responsibility for this kid. But with neither of them stepping up to bat, she had no choice but to do what she could. And the idea of _this,_ of laying in the warm comfort of Maura's bed entirely because it let them trade off who got to attend to the infant in the crib across from them, becoming normal, it scared her shitless.

They were silent for a long while, and she found her eyes focused on the bassinet. She knew from the breathing pattern next to her that Maura hadn't yet drifted off into sleep either. "Maura?" She asked, getting an inquisitive hum of something in response. "I'm scared. Like, worse than the last time Hoyt was on the loose. Like, Hoyt was one thing. I just had to watch out for myself. But this, it's like-" She paused for a second, trying to figure out just what she was afraid of. All she knew was she was terrified in a way she'd never been in her life. A hand tangled with hers somewhere in the mess of blankets. "Like, this kid needs _someone._ And it's like, I don't _want_ to be that someone. Hell, I'd give anything for Pop, or Tommy, or even Frankie to step up and claim him, But I also know he needs someone to love him, and I know like, I'm the best one out of my family to do that, but, I – I can't help but feel like I'm going to fuck this up. Like I'm going to be worse at this whole kid thing than Lydia would be. And I didn't go leaving the kid on someone's doorstep. This kid – he needs someone to love him. And I'm – I'm afraid –" She knew what she was afraid of, but couldn't voice it.

"You can, Jane. You don't have to be afraid to love him. He is your relative. You're allowed to love him."

"Yeah, but what if it's not enough? I can love him, but I'm not his – y'know-"

"Just because you may not be his biological mother doesn't mean that you cannot be a maternal presence in Christopher's life." She gave a slight smile. Of course Maura would know about that. After all, while the other woman's relationship with both biological and adoptive mothers was rocky at best, Maura knew what it was like to be raised by someone who did not birth her. "You should get some sleep. The christening is tomorrow." She groaned at the thought.

"I don't know why Ma's so insistent on this. I mean, this kid's a bastard – in the literal sense. Neither potential father wants him, his mother dumped him on our doorstep, why the hell does he need to get baptized?"

"It's important to Angela." She sighed, trying to bury her face into the pillow and get at least a few hours of rest. It didn't last long before the rapidly developing sixth sense for baby problems kicked in. She wasn't quite sure when in the last seventy two hours it had kicked in, but somewhere she'd picked up the ability to get to the child before he started wailing at a decibel level that rivaled jet engines. Plucking him out of the bassinet, Jane gave him the once over. Didn't need to be changed, wasn't hungry, just needing attention. She trudged downstairs to the couch with him in her arms, rocking him gently as she walked.

She sighed as she sat down on the couch, flipping on ESPN, the overnight hour of SportsCenter guaranteed background noise. Even though she'd already seen the full hour of it at eleven, there was something soothing about the way it repeated over and over and over again. "See that, Kiddo? Those are the Patriots, and you're going to root for them, no matter who raises you. Maybe you're going to grow up to play for them one day. You got some bigass legs and shoulders. You could grow up to be one hell of a fullback. How about that? Maybe a barrel chested baseball star? You gonna be the one to knock one past the lone red seat, kiddo? How about the Celtics?" The child looked up at her, reaching a hand out, and she took one hand, letting the baby's fingers wrap around one of her own. "Good thing Tommy's not raising you, you'd be the next Chris Herren." She gave a sad smile, knowing that it was the truth.

"Yeah, kiddo, you're gonna grow up to be a hall of famer no matter what sport you want to play. Even if you wanna be like, a gymnast or something. Actually those male gymnasts at the Olympics were kinda hot – you'd have no problems pulling all the chicks you wanted in high school if you looked like one of them. Just don't do the same dumb shit that brought you into this world." She sighed, listening again and taking pleasure in the fact that there was friction between Sanchez and Tebow, and the fact that the Jets were not going to be any sort of a threat in the AFC this season.

The next thing she knew there were strong thumbs digging into her shoulder blades and she tilted her head back to find Maura standing behind her. "You fell asleep on the couch" Maura said simply by way of explanation, and she realized that she had, in fact, passed out in the same position she had been sitting in earlier that morning, with her feet kicked up on the coffee table, a still sleeping child in her arms. "But you should probably wake up, Angela is due here in half an hour."

"Fuck." She looked at the clock on the DVR seeing that she had, in fact, spent the last four hours sound asleep. Maura didn't even need to say anything, simply give her _that_ look and she smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry, I know, I shouldn't curse in front of the kid, even though he has no clue what we're saying."

"Infants are far more perceptive than most people believe." Maura walked around the couch to take said infant, gently rocking the boy back and forth so Jane could get up and shower. Maura, of course, looked amazing as ever, in a subdued dress that looked just fancy enough to work for a baptism, but that would also look decent enough to be everyday work wear. Jane found herself in the guest room, staring at the closet, wondering what the hell she should wear, before deciding that it really didn't matter, and she did have to be at work later that day, settling on her usual combo of slacks, a blazer, and this time her nice blouse. Part of her wondered how just how many of her clothes had migrated to the guest bedroom closet, because there were certainly selections there that she distinctly remembered never taking to Mauras, before she shrugged it off. Her mother had probably stopped by and ransacked the closet at her apartment, in an attempt to help.

She showered, dressed, and made it back downstairs just in time to see her mother walking in, attempting to lint roller away dog hair stuck to her pants. Maura refused to let the kid anywhere near Jo until he'd been properly immunized, which meant Angela had been keeping the pup in the guest house. The drive to St. Agnes' was done in surly silence. She didn't see the point in this, she really didn't. "Did you have to put him in my old christening gown? Really Ma? You couldn't have used Frankie's?" She hated the thought of it. It made this kid a little more symbolically _hers._ It wasn't hers. It didn't belong to her. She was the babysitter, nothing else.

Angela said nothing until the priest prompted them to speak, and she was surprised at how well the kid took being dunked in a bowl of cold water, fussing only a little bit. When the ceremony was over, she was surprised when Father Benjamin turned to her. "Jane, may I have a word?" She'd always liked the priest, he'd been the one there for her baptism, for her confirmation, and she'd always hoped he'd stick around long enough to be the one to do her wedding as well. He was a calm, quiet man, and he'd been a comforting presence when she'd been going through her sullen, teenage years, taking her confession every week when she had to do it in school, never batting an eye over her antics and offering sound advice.

She found herself led out of the chapel into the rectory, taking the offered seat in the small living room. She was surprised when he came out with a bottle of Laphroig and two tumbles, pouring them each a glass. "Um-"

"Jane, your mother explained the situation that you have been placed in when she called me to arrange the baptism. While the situation with Thomas doesn't surprise me, I think it's admirable that you have stepped up to care for Christopher."

"Thanks, I guess." She hadn't really _stepped up_ to anything.

"However, you did just make a vow to raise this child in the faith, to teach him the ways of the lord, and to bring him to salvation. Which can be difficult when you haven't been to mass outside of Christmas and Easter in almost a decade." She frowned into the tumbler in front of her. "While I know your doubts are valid, and your reasons for not attending are strong, I wanted you to know that regardless of what the papacy may claim, I run a very accepting parish. You know that."

"Yeah." It was true, she supposed.

"And I wanted you to know that if you and your significant other," There was a nod towards the door, "Wanted to attend services here on a regular basis, I – and everyone else here – would be more than accepting." She blinked, taking a long swallow of the scotch, unsure of what to say to that.

"Father – she, I, she's a friend." There was a surprised look on the priest's face.

"I'm sorry for the assumption. When Angela explained the situation, she said that the two of you were being wonderful mothers-" She rolled her eyes at the way that her mother had explained things.

"I, uh can't do this alone, and that's what best friends are for, y'know? Maura's been great about helping out." She got another of those kind smiles.

"It doesn't bother me in the least if you were. I just wanted you to know that, Jane. It's hard enough to keep the parish rolls up, it would be wonderful to have you attending more regularly."

"You're just trying to pad the collection plate." She smirked and the priest winked at her.

"Maybe." They polished off the drinks, and he stood, offering a hand to help her up. "I'll see you Sunday then? Maybe the Saturday night service, if that's fitting to your schedule?"

"I'll – I'll think about it."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N yeah, I'm that asshole that ends on a cliffhanger. Again, want to thank you all for the continued support. I spent all day at work doing the outline for this, so there is a plan of exactly what will happen (ok, I take that back, there's a plan until about halfway through when it becomes very Rizzles. The rest will be hashed out tomorrow at work. I'm a very productive employee, can't you tell?)

She braced herself as she walked into the precinct, closing her eyes and balling her fist as she walked into Cavanaugh's office. "What d'ya need Rizzoli?"

"Look, boss, I – uh, I need a week off. Lydia kinda pulled a dump and run with her kid, and someone needs to make sure it doesn't y'know, wind up downstairs on a table." Cavanaugh looked at her for a moment, and she didn't know what the hell to think.

"You want me to track her down for you, Rizzoli? And that good for nothing father of yours?" She smiled at the lieutenant. Homicide was a family. They took care of their own.

"Already been trying. Pop's – well, who knows what. Probably knocking up some other ditzy blond bitch. But I don't think Lydia – well, she dumped him on Maura's doorstep and drove off. If I gave that kid back to her, he _would_ wind up on a slab downstairs. And I really, really don't want to have to bring the woman who birthed one of my relatives in on manslaughter charges because she couldn't remember to feed him."

"Take what you need, Rizzoli. I suppose if I have to I can page your brother."

"That's just cruel. Give him a taste of what it's like only to take it away again when I finally get rid of this kid?" Cavanaugh smiled at her, and she felt a wave of relief wash over her. She hadn't even known what she'd been scared about. She knew that she'd get the time off without a problem.

No, the problem was that she was taking the time off in the first place. She was taking time off work to take care of a kid who wasn't hers, because the people that were supposed to be raising it were too damn irresponsible to do so. How had _she_ become the most mature Rizzoli? She sighed, gathering her favorite thermos from her desk, figuring if she was going to be stuck at home for the week, she might as well have some creature comfort from work.

"You leaving Rizzoli?" Korsak questioned.

"I have a week. Maura worked something out with one of her neighbors, but Gertrude wants a week to prepare and shit. So, yeah. Hopefully I can knock some sense into my brother before then, but-" She shrugged to end the sentence.

"Never thought I'd see the day Rizzoli would take maternity leave."

"Ha ha. Very funny Frost." Frost just grinned back at her.

"You'll call if you need anything, right?" She looked at Korsak.

"I already need to have this kid out of my life. Or at least like, in my life as like, a brother or a nephew, not like, in my life as something I have to take care of. I'm supposed to be the cool aunt that babysits every now and then and shows up with totally annoying toys like drum sets. I'm supposed to spend time with the kid, spoil it rotten and return it to its rightful owners when I'm done."

"You're doing fine, Janie. The kid has someone looking after him, isn't that the important thing?"

"Thanks, I guess. And only my Ma can call me Janie." She admonished, and Korsak merely smirked, refusing to look guilty. She sighed, heading downstairs, finding Maura elbow deep in a corpse – a routine autopsy for once, done for a life insurance company's sake rather than for official police business. Maura looked up, nodding an acknowledgement of Jane's presence. "Please tell me it's not going to be as bad as I'm imagining it will be." Maura quirked an eyebrow at her question, before plucking out a stomach and placing it on a scale.

"Cavanaugh gave me a week off. Please tell me it's not as bad as I'm imagining being stuck at home with the kid."

"It's not that bad." Jane found herself closely inspecting Maura's neck for any trace of hives. "Really, it's not. Newborns are quite quiet on the most part for the first few weeks of their lives, only crying when they have a need of some sort. Colic is most common around six weeks of age, and usually resolves by the time an infant is three to four months old. Right now, he can't even stay awake for more than an hour at a time."

"Something tells me you spent most of the last three days reading everything you could on how to care for a week old child." Maura merely smirked a response. "God, I am so not ready for this."

"It's not that difficult, Jane." Maura looked up at her with an earnest look. "Besides, you've done a great job so far."

"Most of the credit goes to you. You're the one that's pulled all the weight so far. I've felt like Desi, walking in all _honey, I'm home_ over the last three days."

"Yes, well, I didn't have much else to do. I don't know how your mother did it, stay at home all those years."

"Yeah, well, that's Ma for you. I always thought there was a reason she was a little neurotic." Maura laughed, and she couldn't help the easy grin that came to match the sound. "I uh, I suppose I should y'know – go face the music and realize what a failure of a mother I'm going to be when I have one of my own."

"Jane-" She shrugged, hopping off the metal table she'd perched on, heading out the back door of the morgue. She found herself gripping the wheel with both hands, something she usually reserved for driving through construction zones, when she found herself between jersey barriers on either side, inches to spare. She felt anxious. Nervous. _Trapped._ She slipped in the door quietly, not wanting to wake what she hoped was a sleeping baby. Her mother was there, the child in the basket he had arrived in a few feet away.

"Hey." She said, noting her mother's concerned look. "Everything all right? He didn't-I mean, he's all right, right?"

"He's fine, Janie."

"You're not." There was a long silence between them as Jane sank down on the couch next to her mother.

"This child – I mean, it could be something I should hate, because it was your father – _procreating_ – with another woman, or it could be my first grandbaby, and I don't know if I should love it, or hate it, or-"

"Procreate? Ma, really? You've been spending too much time with Maura." The nervous laugh broke the tension, however slightly.

"Even if he is your father's, I mean – I should hate him for that. I put so much time and effort into making sure that you three came out right, that Lydia should just expect me to do the same with Christopher – it makes me feel put upon. But at the same time, if that baby is Tommy's, I want nothing more than to be the best grandmother a child could hope for." She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"I know the feeling. It's like, I want to hate him for turning my life upside down. I mean I just took a week off of work so that Gertrude-" Jane nodded her head in the direction of the neighbor's house, "Can re-babyproof her place, and it's like, I really, really want nothing more than to knock some sense into Tommy or Pop, or both, but at the same time, it's like, the kid didn't ask for this, y'know?"

"I know, Janie. That's what bothers me. This child – he didn't ask to be brought into this world with so much uncertainty and doubt around him. He didn't ask to have everyone that should love him, and pamper him, and _mother_ him abandon him. It's not his fault he exists."

"He-" She paused as she felt her phone vibrate against her hip, pulling it out of the carrier, and frowning when she saw Frost's name pop up. "What, can you not even go three hours without me?"

"Jane, it's Tommy-" She swore, already on her feet before she could hang up.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N so yeah…this is writing itself. Really. Thank you all again for the support. Y'all are awesome, and I love this fandom for all the love present.

"Tommy, what the fuck? I can't fucking believe you. You had three years where the _only_ condition of your parole was _this._ Not drink and get behind the wheel of a damn car. You didn't even need to stay sober, you just had not combine drinking and moving vehicles."

"Jane, I swear, I was sleeping. Ask the officer that arrested me."

"Tommy, you were in the driver's seat, and the keys were in the ignition, that's enough."

"You know I learned my lesson."

"Obviously, you didn't. There was intent to operate the vehicle there. Tommy, you need to call a lawyer and –" She trailed off. "Goddammit Tommy, why the hell were you drinking in the first place?"

"Because you've got what could potentially be my child, and I – I can't do it, Jane. When Lydia gave birth I knew – I couldn't do it. Even if he's mine, I can't be a dad. I know I can't. I'd rather go back to the joint than fuck up this kids life, Jane." She wondered just how much her brother had drunk. The BAC off the breathalyzer had read a .19, even though it had been two hours since Tommy had been brought in. "You're awesome for taking him, you know that, right sis? I'm not a dad. If I had that kid – he'd wind up more fucked up than I am. And you know I ain't right, Janie. I got too much of my own shit to deal with, I can't take a kid on top of it."

"Tommy what-" She asked, wondering just what was going through her brother's brain, before the realization hit her. "Wait, you- you-"

"I'm not a dad, Jane." She closed her eyes, fighting every urge she had to clock her brother squarely in the jaw.

"No, but you're an asshole." She said, stalking out of the interrogation room they had her brother in, and down to where she knew Frankie would be. "He did this shit on purpose."

"What, get another DUI?"

"He straight up told me he'd rather be locked up than raise his damn kid. How fucked up is that? How the hell is that related to us? He fucking put himself in a position to go back to jail just to avoid raising his child."

"It could still be Pop's."

"Even if it is, do you know how to rouse Pop from Arizona? Or wherever the fuck he is today? Why does everyone think I should be the one to mother this kid? It's not mine, I don't want it, but everyone seems to be shoving it on me." She sighed. "Is this just because I'm a woman? Does everyone think, oh, Jane Rizzoli she's female, she must be able to be a mom."

"No, they don't. I look at you and I think you're a force of nature that wouldn't let hell or high water affect that kid. Look at you Janie, you're the best one of us for this, even if you don't want to do it."

"Fuck you, Frankie." She muttered, as she headed for the morgue, hoping that Maura would be more understanding. "Tommy's upstairs, he just got busted for another DUI."

"He did it on purpose." She nodded, wondering how Maura just _knew._

"Why? What the hell was he doing drinking at –" She glanced at her watch, "Two in the afternoon? He was doing so good too. He was going to AA, he got his own place, he was actually trying on the job front." She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "And he goes and violates his parole on purpose just to avoid dealing with _this._ Why the hell does my family have to be so screwed up?" Her throat suddenly felt thick, as the emotions of the last few days threatened to overwhelm her.

She felt Maura's arms wrap around her and she broke, tears starting to fall as she buried herself deeper into the hug. "Why does everyone think I'm the best one for this? I don't want this kid, but I can't just – y'know. I'm not cut out to be a mom. I don't want to be a mom, not right now. I mean, I just watched you nearly get killed a few days ago. That's what my life is. Death and destruction and that's not a life to raise a child in. This kid needs stability, this kid needs love. I – I don't know if I can give him that."

"Everything is going to be fine." There was a soothing hand stroking the hair at the nape of her neck, and she wanted nothing more than to never leave this little pocket of warmth and comfort ever again.

"No it's not. What if I never get rid of this kid? I can't just raise some relative, whatever he is. I don't know the first thing about how to be a parent. How the hell am I supposed to do this? Why does everyone just assume that I'm who should be doing this?"

"You're not doing this alone. I'm here for you, no matter what." She sniffed, trying to stop the flow of hot tears that were currently flowing freely into her best friend's hair.

"Why?" She asked, letting Maura lead them to the couch in the office.

"Why what?"

"Why are you dealing with all this? He's not your nephew, brother, whatever."

"No but you-" There was a comforting squeeze to her knee, "Are my friend. You would do the same thing if Paddy Doyle dropped a baby on my doorstep and said it was related to me." She sighed, knowing it was the truth.

"How are you so calm with all of this? You've just sorta, taken it in stride, y'know?" There was a long moment between them where Jane could tell Maura was corralling thoughts, marshalling them into words.

"Jane, the other day – it was the worst day of my life. I thought – I thought I was going to die. And I've done a lot of thinking over the last few days. About the things that I may miss because of the dangers involved with what I do. I don't exactly have the best history with long term relationships, and may never have the chance to experience the maternal bonding ritual myself. I've taken this in stride because –"

"You're taking what you can get, because you don't think you're ever going to really be a mom?"

"In short, yes." She gave a bitter chuckle. "Look at me, I'm almost forty, and the last man that showed any interest tried to kill me."

"Yeah, well, we're alike in that regard. At least Dennis didn't kidnap you and chain you to a bed." They shared a nervous smile, trying to laugh over their mutual misfortunes. "You're right though, this kid – I don't want to be doing this, but it's likely going to be my only chance to do this. I just wish it wasn't like _this_. What the hell is Ma going to say when she finds out that Tommy violated his parole just to get out of having to raise his kid?" There was a knock on the door as Suzie slipped inside, file folder in hand.

"I have the results of the DNA test you asked for, detective." The folder was handed to the two of them, before the criminologist slipped back out, not acknowledging the state they were in. Jane knew she looked a mess, and she was grateful that the other woman was wise enough not to say anything. She sighed, opening the folder, not being able to make any sense of the results.

"So – you know what all this means." She smirked slightly. "I feel like I'm on an episode of Maury." There was something ironic with the names there. "So, who's the daddy?"

"Well, there are a number of chromosomal similarities between Christopher's DNA and Tommy's." She rolled her eyes at the science talk. "But without a genetic sample from your father to exclude him, there's no way to know for sure."

"Maura, what are the odds that this kid got all the damn genes that Dad passed to Tommy?"

"Exceedingly small, but present."

"Can't you ever guess?"

"No." She sighed, feeling her phone buzz against her hip again. "What's wrong?" Maura asked, reading the expression on Jane's face.

"Frankie just texted me. He told Ma about Tommy."

"Oh no."

"He said she's calm." Maura's brow furrowed.

"That's not like Angela."

"I know, that's what's worrying me. I should go see what's going on." She didn't even question it when Maura followed her out.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N Honestly, if I were Angela, I'd react the same way. Of course, I'm the Tommy of my family so…

When she returned home she found Frankie and her mother sitting at the kitchen counter, both strangely serene. Frankie simply shrugged at her, obviously as bewildered to their mothers actions as she was. "Ma?" She questioned, reaching a hand out for her mothers shoulder, which got shrugged away. She looked up to her brother, who nodded his head towards the living room, and she and Maura followed him there.

"She hasn't said nothing, Janie. She just sorta nodded her head when I told her that Tommy'd been arrested. He's going to plead to one to three for the parole violation. At least, that was what he was planning on when I spoke to the prosecutor. Never even lawyered up." She gave a frustrated groan, looking at the baby holster in the corner where the kid was laying there staring at the spinning mobile above him, oblivious to the drama that was erupting around him.

She walked back to her mother, who was sipping a cup of tea like nothing was wrong. "Ma?" She tried again. "Ma, c'mon, I know we're all pissed at Tommy-"

"I'm not." The words were quiet, and left Jane puzzled.

"What?"

"I should, be, I know. I should be very angry with Tommy right now. Your brother – what he's done. But you know that the second that baby starts getting colicky you'd be driving over and dumping it on his doorstep the same way Lydia dropped him here." She frowned, but knew that it was true. She'd attempt to at least. "And this poor child deserves better than that. Tommy knew that."

"Wait, you're taking his side in this? You think what he did was _noble?"_ She knew her mother had an endless amount of faith and optimism when it came to the youngest sibling, but even this was pushing it.

"No I don't. But I can understand why he did it. Your brother has never been one to make – wise decisions." Her frown deepened. "I think he's an incredible idiot for this, and I'm going to lay into him when I see him next, but I can understand why."

"Ma, he just willingly put himself in jail to get out of raising a child that's more than likely his. If it was hard enough for him to get a job before, yeah, having not just a felony DUI on his record but a parole violation for a second one is just going to make it a walk in the park. What was he thinking?"

"More like he wasn't thinking." Frankie opined. She could see the baby starting to fuss out of the corner of her eye and looked up at the ceiling, hoping for some sort of divine retribution to strike her down where she stood just so that she could get out of this giant mess that her life had become. Still, she plucked him from where he lay, cuddling him against her chest, one thumb gently stroking the peach fuzz that covered his head.

"Why did they have to rope you into this mess, huh?" She looked down at the child, speaking quietly to it. "You didn't ask to get put in this place. You didn't ask for your pop to be such a screwup. You didn't ask for your mom to be an incompetent ditz. You just ask for someone to feed you and change your diapers, and love you. I'm sorry that the people that are supposed to be doing that are more immature than some teenagers. Seriously, there are kids on MTV that do a better hash at parenting than your parents." She rocked him gently, completely unaware of the three sets of eyes on her, all of them in awe of the look she had on her face.

"Oh Janie-" Her mother was the one to break the silence she hadn't even realized had descended upon them.

"What?"

"If you could see yourself right now –" She rolled her eyes.

"I'd look like a frazzled woman with a baby that's not hers."

"Jane, you're going to hate me for this, but you looked like you were made to do that." She glared at her brother.

"Well, duh. I'm human, I'm pretty sure Dr. Smartypants over there can tell you all the reasons why a human looks like they were made to raise another human." She looked towards Maura for some help, actually wanting a googlemouth explanation to come pouring out of it. She really didn't like the fact that she, apparently, looked like a_ mom _when holding the kid. She got none. "C'mon Maur, help me out here. Tell him all the stuff about evolution, and biology and all that crap."

Maura blinked, apparently lost on some train of thought, snapped back to attention by her name. "What?" She rolled her eyes.

"Nothing." She grumbled, looking at the other three people gathered in Maura's kitchen. "So, what now? Now that this kid's dad is out of the picture for the next one to three years –" She frowned at the thought. "And his mother is god knows where, what now?"

"Well, I guess you're stuck with him for the next one to three years." She closed her eyes, willing herself not to scream in frustration.

"Great. I was really hoping that I'd be able to pawn him off on the first available relative while he's still all nice and quiet most of the time, and the only time he cries is when he needs something." She sighed, attempting to suss out the causes of the kid's fussing. Well, the diaper was still dry, he was being coddled, which left feeding. She could feel three sets of eyes on her as she expertly maneuvered around the kitchen, one handedly filling a bottle and microwaving it, trying to figure out what had all three of the people gathered looking so shocked. "Ok, I can understand you two-" She pointed at Frankie and her mother, "Looking shocked that I can in fact, juggle a baby and a bottle. But you-" She pointed at Maura, "Have spent the last three days trading diaper duty with me. You should be used to this."

"You look – different." Different how? She wondered. She sure as hell felt the same. Stuck raising her brother's fuckup. She knew Maura well enough to know that _no way to know for sure_ was enough to convince her that it was Tommy's. At least she hoped it was Tommy's. Nephew was one thing. Brother was another. At least if it was her nephew, she could explain it away a bit better than as to why a thirty-something woman had a week old baby brother. At least with _no way to know for sure_ she could convince herself that this kid belonged to Tommy. No, she still felt exactly the same, only now she knew she was going to be stuck with this kid for at least year.

It was a fact that was grudgingly settling around her. She was going to be stuck with this kid for at least a year. The least she could do was make sure that when Tommy got out of the joint that he'd have a healthy kid. She wanted nothing more than to rip her brother limb from limb right now, but there was a slightly more pressing matter at hand. "Can you all please stop staring? It's a baby, it's not like you've never seen a woman with a baby before."

"No, but I've never seen you with a baby. You look good like that, sis."

"What, next are you going to tell me I look good in a denim dress standing barefoot in the kitchen?"

"Ah, the classic sign of femininity and motherhood-"

"Now is not the time, Maur. Besides, if either of us was the barefoot in the kitchen type, it'd be you"

"Why do you say that?"

"Because you're y'know, the one that actually _has_ any femininity."

"What sis, you trying to say you're the butch one?"

"Frankie, don't talk to your sister like that. Jane, you're going to make a wonderful mother for this child."

"Ma, when did you start smoking the good shit?" Angela merely looked at her. "Hopefully this stint in the joint will wisen Tommy up enough to actually be a dad when he gets out." She sighed, as she watched the kid gently suck at the bottle, wondering how the hell she managed to get into this mess in the first place.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N – this is, what they would call, the "sticking point" chapter. This just…this was the one that did not want to be written and had to be pried out kicking and screaming to advance the plot, and drive this whole thing closer to Rizzles territory.

She was surprised, really, at how easily the first two days went alone with the kid. He was still mostly quiet, only wailing at ear shattering levels when he needed to be changed or fed, and it was easy enough to kick back with a beer, a baseball game, a baby, and try and pretend that the world around her didn't exist. She found, however, that she didn't have the same desire to grab another beer after the first like she usually did, content to sip on just one until it was warm, and then still finish it out.

By day three, however, she realized that Maura's pantry and fridge had both grown dismally bare. "Looks like you and me, kiddo, are grocery shopping." She hadn't expected just how involved a trip to the grocery store would be. First she had to strap the kid to the baby holster – as she'd taken to calling the carrier that the kid usually rode around in when not ensconced in her arms or in the freestanding bassinet that stood in the master bedroom, strap the baby holster to the backseat of her car – which was much harder to do in an old Crown Vic than she thought it would be, and make sure that she had everything she would need in case the kid started fussing in the hopefully short trip.

She started driving towards Shaw's before realizing that Maura probably wouldn't be fine with cheap store-brand groceries filled to the brim with various preservatives, and took a sharp right at the light she was at, heading instead for the small organic co-op she knew Maura loved to shop at. She wasn't quite sure what to do with the kid, so she stuck him at the end of the cart, still in the carrier, making sure he was snugly settled before walking into the store. She took a quick lap around the exterior, picking up staples. Cereal – the unfortunate whole-wheat version of Lucky Charms which seemed like it sort of defeated the purpose, various cuts of meat, a collection of vegetables, planning various meals as she walked. She wasn't exactly a five star chef, but she could handle herself in a kitchen, even if she did tend to fall upon a few repetitive staples. Steak. Chicken with mushrooms. Sausage and peppers. Gnocchi – the sort that came frozen in a bag and not her mother's fresh kind. Things that weren't hard to make, and tasted decent.

She heard the telltale sound of a crying baby and glanced at the one at the foot of her cart in panic, before realizing that the kid wasn't the one making the noise. Instead, she turned the corner to find a man wrestling with a child a few months older, gently cooing at it and encouraging it to calm down. "Please tell me I'm not in for more months of that." She hadn't meant to say it out loud, but the man turned around, offering her a kind smile, looking down at the baby in her cart.

"Get used to it." She frowned. "Totally worth it though, right hon?" The man across the aisle said, turning to smile at another man who had appeared, plucking the older child up with a practiced ease. She blinked for a second, processing the scene in front of her. A baby, with two dads, who looked like a family that belonged on the cover of some magazine. "Colleen here's six months. Got a set of pipes on her that make me convinced she's going to grow up to be a professional cheerleader, doing nothing but shouting for a living." She smiled. "How old's yours?"

"He's uh, a week actually. A week today."

"Girl, you obviously didn't birth him, and if you did, I want your exercise routine."

"No, no I didn't." She frowned at the thought. She hadn't even been there for the birth, but what little she had seen had been enough for her to be convinced that she would never go through that herself.

"He's a cutie though. Enjoy him while he's still quiet. I'm pretty sure Colleen here just cries to test our patience. Wouldn't trade her for the world, but looking forward to when she outgrows this." The other child had finally quieted down, and she gave another smile to the men across from her, pushing her cart past them with a polite word of parting.

It wasn't until she was halfway through the next aisle that the realization hit her. She was used to seeing same-sex couples around Boston, and it'd never bothered her before, but if she and Maura took this kid anywhere together, there would be a certain assumption made. Even Father Benjamin had made that assumption. If they took this kid out in public together, everyone would assume they were just as much of a couple as the doting parents an aisle away. There was a feeling that settled deep in her stomach, sending icy tendrils up through her chest.

People would just think they were together. That this kid was _theirs._ And she found herself standing there in the middle of the co-op, imagining them out at the park, someone asking about the kid, the same way the same stranger would ask the couple an aisle over about the six month old still crying, but not nearly as loud as before. And the fact that she could imagine Maura answering said question without batting an eye gave her an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach. Deciding that she'd had quite enough of grocery shopping for the moment, she quickly headed for the checkout counter, forgetting that every other time she'd been here, she'd been here with Maura and the attached membership card. "It's uh, for Dr. Maura Isles." She admitted to the clerk, who merely quirked an eyebrow.

"You're not Dr. Isles."

"No, but these groceries are going to her house." The clerk eyed her up, looked at the child in the cart, and shrugged, typing in Maura's name, and ringing up the groceries. She knew the look the clerk gave her, cause it was the same sort of soppy look that the clerk was giving the other couple that was currently perusing the produce. Great. Even the clerk in the co-op thought she and Maura were together. What the hell was wrong with two friends babysitting a kid together? There was a slip of something slipped into the last bag as the total was displayed for her to swipe her card.

"So Dr. Isles can add you to her membership." The clerk explained and she just nodded blankly as she signed for the purchase, tossing it all in the trunk of her unmarked before she grabbed the baby carrier and walked in the opposite direction of her car, towards the little clearing on the other end of the parking lot. It wasn't enough to count as a park, but too big to call just a bit of landscaping, with a picnic table in the middle of it.

She set the kid down on the table, sinking heavily into the seat, fully giving in to the panic attack that had been threatening to overtake her since she was inside the store. She'd long since learned how to control them, at least for a little while. There was no way to completely avoid them, but she'd learned a long time ago – months after her first run-in with Hoyt, how to manage them to prevent them from ruining her life. The department shrink had given her some coping tools – how to recognize what she was feeling as anxiety, how to breathe through it until she could give in to the emotion, and she knew she had a roughly ten minute window before she couldn't control herself once she felt the icy tendrils of fear wrap around her stomach.

She pulled her knees to her chest, her heels resting on the soft wood of the park bench beneath her, as she hung her head between them, trying to focus entirely on her breathing. She tried to focus on a steady count of five on the inhale, and a steady count of ten on the exhale while her heart hammered wildly in her chest. She supposed it was the one upside of the department shrink. She'd never rid herself entirely of the anxiety attacks, or so the shrink had said, when she'd gone a month solid gripped with a fear of something she couldn't explain after she'd woken up pinned to the floor, Hoyt above her. But the shrink had at least taught her how to not let anxiety overwhelm her.

It was rare, these days that she found herself in this position, head between her knees, counting each breath. She'd managed to get really good at coping with everything, and the last time she'd found herself like this had been the ride over to Dennis' apartment, where she'd purposely hidden herself in the backseat, letting Korsak drive and Frost take shotgun just so they wouldn't notice her drawing her knees up, doubling over and counting her breaths. She didn't even know what she was panicking about. Was it the idea of people thinking she and Maura were a couple?

Because somehow, she was strangely cool with that. The idea of people thinking things about her and Maura, well, they could think. She knew what they were, and that was what mattered. But the idea of doors being closed to this kid because of what people assumed? That was what bothered her. She didn't want this kid to grow up without a father, didn't want this kid to risk missing out on the wonderful world of catholic school, which as much as she hated it, knew was much better than public school. Didn't want this kid to be mocked on the playground for not having a mommy and a daddy, didn't want this kid to suffer for things that weren't his fault. There were already enough things that this kid had to suffer for that he didn't ask for, she didn't need to heap things on top of it.

"You're a good kid, y'know that?" She turned towards the half-awake baby in front of her. "If I'm going to have to look after you for a year, at least it's you, because you're a good kid. There could be worse, much worse. You could be a screamer, like that kid in there. Please don't grow up to be a screamer. I like you like this. I don't know if I'd like a screamer." She smiled down at the baby, who reached a hand up towards her, wrapping a hand around her index finger.

She eventually made it home, once the icy tendrils had relinquished their grip around her stomach, and she found herself making dinner – steak, something easy that she was good at. Something that didn't require any amount of thought. Steak, onions, soy sauce, seasoning, all tossed together in a pan and stuck in an oven for an hour. It wasn't exactly something she'd sacrifice twelve dollar a pound t-bones to, but the three dollar a pound chuck steak she'd grabbed was perfect for it. It was one of the few recipes she'd never threw together for Maura before, one of her few comfort foods.

"Hey, kiddo, be glad you're not at the solid food stage yet. This is delicious, but the salt content will have you chugging water for a day." The baby smiled at her, kicking slightly, and she was glad that the kid had developed that reflex. The kid looked good when he smiled.

She jumped slightly when the door opened, before realizing it was half past five, and a normal time to be returning home if there weren't any murders to solve. "Now I understand what you meant with the I Love Lucy Comment." Maura muttered, walking into the kitchen, where she was standing, feeding the kid, the smell of dinner wafting around them.

:"Kinda scary, right?"

"Well, considering you're the one that cooked-" She did her best at an impish, put-upon grin, before pulling the pan out of the oven.

"Dinner should be just about ready. Take a seat." She was amazed at how – normal this felt. Falling into the housewife routine of making dinner and wanting to serve Maura the results of the day, as she plucked one of the steaks out of the pan, heaping half the onions on top of it, before doing the same with her own plate.

"This is delicious." Maura admitted a few bites into the steak. "Why haven't you ever made this before?" She shrugged.

"It's comfort food. It's nothing special."

"Yes it is. Every time you've cooked, it's been a recreation of one of Angela's recipies."

"What makes you think this isn't?"

"Your mother would never make anything with this many onions. She hates onions." She smiled, surprised at being called out on it.

"I got the recipe of the back of a spice shaker."

"Well, they obviously knew what they were doing." She grinned, surprised that Maura actually enjoyed her cooking. She'd been slightly afraid. The last two days she'd ordered Chinese, and had her mother cook for them, but she had no choice but to do something.

"Maur – I was grocery shopping today."

"I noticed. You even took the eco friendly bags to the co-op."

"Yeah, well, about that-" She trailed off, not really sure what to say. "Maur, I – y'know when we take this kid out, that people are just going to assume that we're, y'know," She held up her first and middle finger crossed together, imitating what she knew people would think they were.

"A couple?" Maura questioned, and she nodded. "And you have misgivings about that?" She shrugged.

"I mean, do you?" Maura shrugged.

"We know what we are."

"But yeah, are you prepared for everyone else to think we're y'know-" She held up her fingers again, still crossed.

"If you'd rather not take Christopher out together-"

"I never said that. It's just people are going to assume things about us. Father BJ already did."

"Is that what he pulled you aside for?" She nodded. "He didn't-"

"He didn't excommunicate me, if that's what you're asking. Actually, he told me he still expects to see this kid in CCD every Wednesday and to be a damned altar boy once he gets old enough. He always struck me as the type to have taken the vows just to avoid questions. It's just – this kid has it rough enough already. Between getting dropped on a doorstep Tommy getting locked up, Ma- being Ma, I just don't want him to have to deal with more BS on top of it. I don't want us to take him to the park or something and have him get picked on cause he doesn't have a mommy and a daddy, he's got two babysitters." A hand reached out, the fingers of Maura's left hand intertwining with those on her right, and she took comfort in the gesture.

"Jane, you know I didn't have the best childhood. Other children are going to find anything to mock him for. You've experienced it yourself. And you had your family to turn to every time the other kids were cruel. And it made you a stronger person, becaue you had others to turn to. If it wasn't us, they'd mock him for his hair color, or if he turns out to have freckles, or whatever his interests will be. We can be there for him to turn to, give him strength."

She frowned, staring down at her plate, wondering if she would actually be able to do that. This whole parenting thing – it scared the shit out of her. "Maura?" She asked, the inner detective in her taking hold. "If your parents weren't there for you, what did you turn to when they other kids poked fun at you?"

There was a long silence. "The idea that one day I'd be there for someone else."


	9. Chapter 9

A/N sorry this took so long to get out. I've been having...technical difficulties. (no, really, my apartment is like an IT graveyard. This is being written on Frankenlaptop.)

* * *

She was surprised at just how quickly the week had passed. She was almost sad when Monday dawned around her, and she realized that she actually _had_ to obey the alarm that was blaring next to her, groaning as she got up. Unsurprisingly, Maura was already awake, and she could hear the shower running in the bathroom. Flicking the alarm off, she checked on the kid, before making her way to the guest bathroom to prepare for the day.

She'd actually almost enjoyed this last week. It was strangely relaxing, not having to worry about murderers, criminals and the bad guys in general. Where the only things she had to focus on were cooking, cleaning and child. She was glad to be going back to work, but she found herself actually being able to see where her mother found enjoyment in this whole kid business. It wasn't for her, but she could definitely see where other people found the appeal.

She let herself relax in the shower, for the first time in a week being able to actually enjoy the spray. When she was alone with the kid, she'd found that she was so deeply afraid of turning her back on him for more than a few moments that she couldn't let herself enjoy her morning ritual. But now she had backup. She was, however, not so glad that she was stuck in the guest bathroom – she was starting to enjoy the luxurious shower that Maura was currently occupying.

When she was finally dressed, breakfasted, and ready for work, she found herself chewing on her bottom lip as they walked down the street to Gertrude's house. She knew the woman was more than qualified to play babysitter. She'd done a very thorough background check as soon as Maura had pitched the idea. This was a woman who'd had five of her own, and a baker's dozen of grandchildren, this was definitely a woman who knew what she was doing when it came to squirmy infants. And the kid was definitely squirming right now. And honestly, so was she.

The elderly woman gave her a knowing look and a kind smile. "I'm honored that the two of you are willing to let me do this, ladies. It's been so long since I've had any this young and this quiet to dote over. Billy's youngest is eight now, and decidedly not as easy to care for. It's lonely sometimes, here all by myself. Don't you worry about him, I have both your numbers in case anything happens." She nodded dumbly as she passed the kid over, a sudden thick feeling in her throat.

The drive to the precinct was strangely silent, And she found herself reaching out to cover Maura's hand on the gearshift of the Prius, taking comfort in the nervous smile she got in return. Good, she wasn't the only one that felt...something about leaving the kid with someone else. She put her brave face on once they got to work, though, and braced herself for the expected ribbing she was going to get from the guys.

"Hey, Rizzoli, good to have you back!" She grinned at Frost, groaning at the stack of case files on her desk.

"Really? I'm out a week and you guys decide to dump all your paperwork on me?" She looked up at the two men that shared the bullpen with her. "What are you two staring at? Did I grow a second head or something while I was out? Oh crap I don't have any baby puke on my clothes do I?" She looked down at her shirt, hoping that there wasn't any evidence of this morning's feeding left behind.

"No, you're good, Jane. Actually you look fantastic." She rolled her eyes.

"Go back to hitting on my Ma, Korsak, you've got a better chance there." She frowned when Korsak gave a furtive glance back towards Cavanaugh's office and fought off the urge to groan. Great. Just flipping great. This was just what she needed on the first day back after a week off. If _Korsak_ thought that Cavanaugh was interested in her mother, then there was no doubt about it.

"No I mean that Jane, motherhood looks good on you." She stuck her tongue out at the man, resorting to a juvenile gesture simply because she couldn't find a pen on her desk quickly enough to throw at him.

"Ha, ha. Very funny." She sighed as she saw Cavanaugh come out of the office.

"Good to see you back, Rizzoli. Frankie's good, but he's not you."

"Yeah, did you see him miss that tire tread with the Jolson case-" She tilted her head, crossing her arms over her chest. Frost did _not_ just insult her baby brother. That was her job, and now that she knew he'd missed something at a crime scene, she definitely was going to do so.

"Anyway, you came back just in time. Saves dispatch a call." A file folder was tossed on her desk. She frowned as she skimmed the few details already jotted in it, dead male, found dumped in a park, stabbed. At least, that was what the unis that had been called to the crime scene had said. Knowing them, their vic likely had two slugs in him.

"On it." She was halfway out the door to Frost's unmarked before the sentence was finished.

"You're actually letting me drive for once? Damn, Rizzoli, this whole kid thing is definitely bringing out a new side of you." She rolled her eyes, sliding in to the seat.

"I'm just letting you drive because it was pointless for Maura and I to drive in separately."

"So, how is this kid raising buisness going?"

"It's not a business, and it's...weird. Like, I don't wanna like this kid. It just sorta got shoved on me, and I should hate that. But he's kinda – grown on me. Like a fungus, but he's grown on me." Frost smirked at her attempt to cover feelings with sarcasm.

"So, this kid, he have a name?" She shrugged.

"Christopher."

"Nice name. His middle name is Barry, right?" She rolled her eyes at her partner.

"I like you, partner, but not that much." They reached the crime scene, surveying it. Maura was already hard at work, and surprisingly, it was actually a stabbing. "There's no blood here, this was a dump job." She was instantly back in cop mode, scruitinizing every detail, crouching down in the mud around the victim. "Hey, can someone get a casting of these shoe prints?" She called one of the crime scene techs over, pointing at the marks in question.

Frost was busy taking witness statements, and she turned to Maura for the initial assessment. "Two stab wounds both to the chest, no signs of any defensive wounds. Lack of blood around the victim implies that they weren't killed here." She nodded, taking it in. So, the man hadn't put up a fight. "No wallet, phone, or watch." She pursed her lips. Robberies usually went down with a struggle. "The amount of trauma to the surrounding brush indicates that the body was inserted her rather forcefully."

"What, they threw him into the bushes?"

"While I can't say for certain he was _thrown_, he certainly wasn't set here gently." She rolled her eyes at Maura's insistence on not guessing. Ever. She looked at Frost who was heading over towards them.

"Anything?"

"Two people report seeing a junkie poking around in the bushes about forty minutes ago, didn't think anything of it. Person who found the body was walking their dog, dog found the body."

"Liver temperature says time of death was six to ten hours ago."

"Great, that might explain the missing valuables. Guy gets stabbed, doesn't put up a fight, gets thrown in the bushes, and then gets robbed after he's dead." She frowned, watching as the body was loaded into a bag and into the coroner's van. Her mind was already racing and reeling, trying to put pieces together with how little she knew, trying to figure out what the next step should be.

She felt her phone buzz on her hip the same time she heard the telltale chime of a text message going off in Maura's purse. She frowned, pulling out her phone, revealing a picture message. She opened it up to find a picture of the kid, safely snuggled in house that couldn't look more _Stereotypical Old Lady_ if it tried, with a simple note of _have a good day at work, girls. _She looked up, and she and Maura shared a grin, ignoring Frost's question of what suddenly had them looking so soppy.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N - courtesy of the library, have another chapter.

* * *

She sighed, staring at the young man in front of her, rolling her eyes at the way that he purposely evaded her questions. "Look, kid, you talk, we drop the possession charge. We don't really care that you're a junky. We _care_ if you saw something when you were robbing that corpse."

"I mighta seen something."

"Well, what's that _something_ you saw?" She questioned, palms flat on the table of the interrogation room. It had taken them six hours, and her greasing Rondo with forty dollars to find this guy. "Look, we have you on tape at the pawn shop selling our victim's watch and cell phone. You play that right in front of a jury, with your priors? Whatever overworked public defender you get won't be able to stop them from getting you for this. You wanna go down for murder?" She watched the young man squirm. He couldn't have been more than seventeen.

"Look, there was this van all right? Two guys got out of it, pulled something out the back and tossed it in the bushes. I was over hiding behind the playground, you know-" He slapped the inside of his elbow. "I don't think they knew I was there, I was kinda making myself sparse. Well, once they drove off, I went over to see what it was. Dude was just lying there, and it wasn't like he was gonna miss his money. Had a lot on him too, like three hundred bucks."

"What kind of van?"

"A red one. Like, one of those vans you expect to see have _Free Candy_ spraypainted on the side. You know, the sort that your teachers used to tell you to stay away from. One of those kinds of vans."

"And the guys in it?"

"One was, short. Stocky. The other was like, my height. But built like a fullback. Like, didn't have a neck. It was dark, I didn't get much else." She sighed, glad to at least have _some_ sort of lead. Two men, a red van, it was a start. She stalked out of the interrogation room, hoping that Maura's autopsy could give her more pieces to this puzzle.

There was something _off_ in the morgue as she stepped in. Maura was methodically weighing an organ – a liver it looked like – same as always, but something felt wrong. "Maur?" She questioned, donning the sterile gown and gloves that would allow her the same unfettered access to the corpse that Maura had. "You got something for me?"

"Still waiting on the results from AFIS for prints, but-" There was a moment as a deft hand folded shut the flaps of the y-incision, revealing the stab wounds. Two cylindrical wounds, that had broken through organs and bone. They were looking for something like an awl. Round, narrow, pointed. _Or an icepick._ Her eyes widened for a second, and she set her jaw in place.

"It's not the same MO."

"I know."

"But you're right, something about this feels like someone's trying to send a message. You don't just toss a body into the middle of the park in the middle of the morning unless you're trying to tell someone something." She looked up to see Frost heading towards them, tablet in hand.

"Got a hint on the prints. Mike Davison, forty three, his prints are on file because get this – he applied for an investigators license in the 90's. Far as I can tell, he never did anything with it."

"He applied to be a PI, and never did anything with it?"

"His license is still current, but as far as I can tell, he's never had a single client in his life."

"So why keep the license current?" Frost shrugged.

"He was a union electrician for the last twenty five years – dropped out of school at seventeen, joined the union, and hasn't done anything else since." Her brow furrowed, as she looked at the corpse on the table.

"What sort of buildings did he usually work in?" She questioned, looking through the file as quickly as she could, scanning it for any relevant information.

"Commercial, mostly. Why, what do you think?"

"Victim has two stab wounds that look like they could have come from an icepick."

"Doyle's in prison." Was Korsak's helpful answer as he joined in.

"I know – but, you think this is someone sending a message? I mean, this guy is a PI, he could use that to get access to things, things that normal people can't. What if he was keeping his license up for the mob?"

"We'll start canvassing friends and acquaintances." Korsak was all but dragging Frost along with him as they left. She looked up at Maura.

"Do you really think -"

"I think its someone who wants to mess with the old school Irish Mob. Someone who wants to get under their skin. They wouldn't have left him out in public unless they wanted him to be found. If this was someone trying to just off a guy they would've dumped him in the river." She sighed, and checked her watch. "Shit." she mumbled, frowning at her right wrist. "It's almost six. I guess I should go get the kid. We're not going to know anything else until Korsak and Frost are done." She frowned, shrugging off the gloves. "You mind if I take the car? Frankie can give you a ride back." Maura shook her head.

"All yours. Keys are in my bag." She frowned, heading to the morgue office. She didn't like this. Didn't like that she had to leave a case to go take care of another human being. Didn't like that this was something that had given her carte blanche to root through Maura's purse – she'd never liked it, it always felt so...personal. She tried to locate the keys as quickly as possible, surprised to see that a pacifier had made it's way in amongst the normal accoutrements that resided in there. A pack of breath mints, tampon, pens, makeup, wallet, and now a pacificer. Another sign of just how this kid had started to infect their lives.

She sighed, pulling her hair back into a loose ponytail as she walked to the garage, not liking that this kid was starting to worm his way into every aspect of their lives.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N – short, but needed to push the case along a little bit.

* * *

She sighed, shifting slightly, taking a long swig from the bottle in front of her, staring at the files spread out over Maura's coffee table, trying to piece together what she could with what they had. Previous mob hits, trying to track down any hint of a red van. The most recent buildings that their victim had been working at. Trying to find something, anything, to crack a lead. There was a slight gurgling sound from the baby nestled at her hip and she frowned down at him, sighing as she shifted their position. Maura had insisted that physical contact and interaction was a crucial thing for proper development of something sciency, and she'd found that over the last two weeks she'd gotten rather good at doing things one handed, the other being used to hang on to the kid. "Wish you could help me out here, kiddo." She said, running one finger gently across a rounded stomach, watching the changes in expression on his face as she did so. "You got any clue who's behind this?" She smiled at the kid, watching little arms and legs flail ever so slightly.

"What, you don't want to help your babysitters crack this case? Sooner we crack this case, sooner we get back to finding who gets to be responsible for you. But since you're got two people here willing to look after you, the bad guys come first." The tone was light and soothing as she traced gentle patterns over the fine terrycloth of the onesie, and there was a faint smile on her face, belying the words she was saying. "And we're not fucking up too bad, are we, I mean, we're better than Lydia would be. Be glad you're not getting raised by your real mom, kiddo, I'm not going to let any Rizzoli grow up to be an airhead like that." She was amazed at how much the kid had grown in the last two weeks, how big he was getting, how much more responsive he seemed to get with every passing day.

It was almost fascinating. Almost. "No, you're going to grow up to be someone that the rest of us Rizzolis can look at and be proud of. We're going to get to walk into the gift shop at Fenway or the Garden or Gillette, and see the Rizzoli name up on jerseys. You're going to be someone great." She found herself nose to nose with the kid, amazed at the way his eyes followed hers. Not very steadily, but there there was the attempt there to follow her gaze. She hadn't even heard the door open behind her, unable to stop the grin and chuckle as a little hand fidgeting clocked her on the chin, and the way the kid looked utterly shocked at the contact. Pulling back slightly, she ran one finger ever so gently along the bridge of a tiny, wrinkled nose, before turning back to the files in front of her.

It was only then that she noticed Maura standing there, right where the foyer opened into the living room, and she frowned slightly, trying to read the expression on the ME's face. "Maur?" She questioned, having never seen that look before. There was a hint of the look Maura usually had when spying a new pair of shoes or an attractive man – a look that she'd come to dub the _pondering potential possibilities_ look, and a hint of something that Jane had never seen before on her best friend's face. "Maura?" She tried again, still getting no response, "Hello, earth to Maura, come in, do you read?" Hazel eyes blinked, coming back to focus. "What?" She questioned, wondering what got the woman to stare blankly at something far away in the distance.

"Just-" There was a pause, as Maura toed off shoes, set down a purse, "It's nothing." Jane quirked one eyebrow, seeing the first hint of redness at the base of Maura's throat start to form, but decided to save the rest of the questions for later.

"The rest of the autopsy turn up anything?" Maura shook her head, coming down to sit on the couch next to her, looking over the files spread out.

"Only that our electrician-slash-private investigator was likely to die from cirrhosis within a few years anyway." She could see Maura looking through the building records, and felt her eyebrow twitch again.

"What?" She asked, knowing that Maura had _something._

"KLW Communications, MagicTouch Industries, Levitt-Wooton Productions – they're all subsidiaries of Kenbarr-Levitt-Wooton. Most of the buildings on this list are all owned by the same company." She pursed her lips in thought.

"Could be something with the contractor. You think this guy dug up something about KLW getting a special rate?"

"That would be guessing." She rolled her eyes.

"You're onto something though, I think. There's hundreds of buildings in Boston that need to be rewired, how come this guy only seems to work in the same ones?" She sighed, handing the kid off to Maura as she stretched, "At least there's something. I made spaghetti if you're hungry, didn't know when you'd be back, leftovers are the fridge. I'm gonna go take a shower and call Frost and Korsak, see if they got anything from the canvas."

She got up, unable to help the small at the easy way that Maura held the kid, and how natural it looked. Part of her could almost understand Frankie's comment the other day, about looking like she was made to do it, because Maura definitely looked the part. _What an odd little family we make._ She mused, before shaking her head, as though to dislodge the thought. Where the hell had _that_ come from?


	12. Chapter 12

A/N - For the first time, I'm enjoying writing the case stuff. Thank you all, again, for how much love y'all are showing for this.

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A week. They'd been chasing their tails on this for a week. Frost and Korsak's canvas had turned up nothing, neither did the books of any of the KLW subsidiaries or even the parent company, or the contractors. So far all they had was a dead electrician who just happened to have an investigators license. She pinched the bridge of her nose as she stared at yet another cold lead, another dead trail.

She was halfway through her third cup of coffee of the morning before she found her thoughts interrupted by someone else. "You look like shit, Rizzoli." She gave a halfhearted glare to Korsak, but not failing to pluck one of the donuts out of the box he carried with him as he walked past.

"And you're the face of the next Calvin Klein campaign." She muttered, still trying to figure out who on earth would have motive to kill their vic, and why they would do it in such a way. She knew there was a message trying to be sent, but to whom, well, she couldn't figure it out. She rolled her eyes before settling on the soothing calm of the desktop widget that ticked away dispatch notices across her PC. EMS call, no sirens necessary – a broken bone, a minor problem, something not important. A traffic stop. A mugging. The normal wear and tear of life in a city.

"Naw, Calvin Klein briefs are cut funny, dig into my thighs." She attempted to glare at her former partner, her hands going up in the air in exasperation.

"More than I _ever _wanted to know."

"He's right though." She gave a fully hearted glare at Riley, even though she was too tired to really put the full force of Rizzoli scorn behind it. "You look exhausted."

"The kid acting up?" She nodded quirking an eyebrow at Frost who shrugged. "An ex of mine had a kid. It stops after a few months." There was a hint of a wistful tone in the baritone voice, and the part of her that liked knowing _everything _ couldn't help but perk up.

"Ex?" She inquired. Her partner never really gave up much information on his personal life, much less anything about past relationships.

"Yeah, the baby daddy grew a pair and came back. Kinda hard to compete with that." She gave a sympathetic smile to her partner, an unexpected feeling welling up inside of her. _What if_ her father came back? What if this kid was the one in a million kid that had inherited enough of her father's genes to make the DNA taste inconclusive? What if her father decided he wanted into this kid's life? What if Tommy got off early for good behavior in another month, and decided _he_ was mature enough for this kid? What if Lydia decided to do the grown up thing and take responsibility? _She_ was the one that just spent the last week with a kid that hadn't shut up for more than an hour or two at a time.

_She_ was the one that listened to her mother's reassurances when she swore that she broke the damn thing that she had done the same thing at a month old, and that it was nothing that they were doing wrong. Some kids just were colicky, some kids just decided to wail their hearts out for five hours a day. _She _ was the one that had given up the past month of her life to look after someone else's child. Screw Marino, _this_ was what she deserved a medal of commendation for. She sighed, realizing that the pencil in her had was bowing dangerously close to its snapping point.

Luckily her train of thought was interrupted by an still-not-familiar ringtone bleated out on the far end of the bullpen, and watched as Cooper answered it, trying to commit the ringtone to memory the same way she had Frost's and Korsak's. There was a long pause before the other detective grinned, and thanked whoever was speaking. "That was Watson over in the drug unit. They just popped a dealer who had a gun on him. A gun registered to one Mike Davison."

"Great, where they holding him?"

"Interrogation two." She was on her feet and in the interrogation room before Cooper could even open her mouth again. She paused for a second, looking through the window in the viewing room, sizing up the man on the other side of the glass. Tall, built, dressed in ghetto couture. She knew the oversized jeans were designer and that the outfit on the man had to rival something in Maura's closet in terms of price. Definitely not some low-level thug.

"Where'd you get the gun?" She asked, striding in and slamming the door behind her, watching the man jump ever so slightly.

"Bought it."

"From who?" She was met with an icy smile. "That gun was involved in a homicide, you know that? I know your type. You're smart. You're going to get off with some minor charge and do a token amount of time, and go right back to your high class lifestyle. But you rope a homicide into this? That's a whole lot more serious than possession with intent." There was a long pause.

"One of my customers. He owed me money, came to me, said he'd give it to me if I lowered his tab. Said it was clean, came from some rich white guy." She frowned.

"You got a name?"

"Yeah, junkie, same as all my clients." She rolled her eyes. "He's a white guy, shorter than you, long brown hair, looks like he wants to be Nirvana." She frowned. That was a fairly accurate description of the young man who'd robbed the corpse. Who didn't have a phone, a permanent address, nothing. The gun had obviously been on the corpse at the time, which raised even more questions.

She turned, walking back out to the bullpen. "Our victim had his gun on him when the body was dumped. But there wasn't any sign of a struggle, no defensive wounds."

"Maybe they surprised him?"

"With an ice pick?" She couldn't keep the sarcasm out of her voice. She clenched her jaw for a moment, before striding down to the morgue. She smiled slightly to herself at the sight of Maura looking every bit as exhausted as she felt. They made for a sorry sight. Although perfectly composed, as always, Jane could see the dark circles under Maura's eyes peeping through foundation and the tired slump to the ME's shoulders. "Hey, what was the angle of entry for the two stab wounds on our vic?" She questioned, feeling slightly guilty when she saw Maura jump. She knew that startled look – Maura had been doing her best to catch up on rest without actually sleeping.

There was a pause as Maura opened the file folder. "Angle of entry indicates that whoever killed him had been facing him, standing slightly to the right, and was shorter than our victim." She frowned, her mind going into overdrive. Their first witness had said that one of the men dumping the body had been short and stocky.

"Our victim was armed, and he didn't try to fight back against a man shorter than him. Was there anything else?" She asked.

"You know, there was some odd bruising around his right bicep and left hip."

"Like someone holding him in place?" She questioned.

"The bruises are too vague to tell what exactly they were."

"So someone grabbed him from behind, keeping him in place so he could take two to the chest." That explained Mr. Fullback. "You should go home, get some rest." She added as an afterthought, focusing back on the case.

"I like it better here. It's quieter." She grinned, but it fell quickly.

"Thank you, for everything. This kid would've driven me crazy long before this if it was left up to me and Ma." Maura gave her a kind smile, before wrapping her in a hug.

"It really has been a pleasure so far. Even if he is going through a rough patch right now."

"Yeah, it kinda has." She admitted, however quietly.


	13. Chapter 13

AN - my technology impared ass sucks with computers, so any wonky formatting is due to this being written on my phone. Apologies

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"My, my, my, Vanilla, looking fly as always." She rolled her eyes at Rondo, giving her head a slight shake. "What can Rondo do for you?" He gave her an appraising look, and she couldn't help the easy smile. He had a way of making people – even ones running on roughly nine hours of sleep over the last week – feel better. "And who is this little handsome fella?" She'd been in the middle of running to Shaw's, refusing to pay the completely outrageous prices that the sorts of grocery stores that Maura preferred charged for something like diapers when Rondo had returned her call. It was just easier to have her CI meet her near the store.

"I got stuck with babysitting duty. Do you know where you can get that witness you found for me the other day? The one that robbed the corpse?" She asked, not liking the faint look of sadness around Rondo's eyes.

"OD. Two days after you spoke to him. Got a little overeager with his newfound riches." She frowned. Great. The one person they could actually use was now dead. She was surprised to see Rondo gently looking down at the kid, one gnarled finger gently rubbing a tummy through layers of thick blankets that held the kid in place in the carrier. "Hey there little baby Vanilla. You being a good little man for the fine detective here?"

"He's done nothing but wail for the past week."

"You try giving him a bath whenever he starts wailing? Running the vacuum?" She felt her eyebrows raise at Rondo's suggestions. "Don't look so shocked, Vanilla. Old Rondo's been around the block a few times." She blinked, watching as Rondo pulled away from the carrier tucked into the crook of her elbow, reaching to dig around in his backpack. "Sorry I couldn't help with the case, Vanilla. If I hear anything else, ol' Rondo will be sure to let you know." He gave her a grin, before handing a surprisingly pristine small stuffed toy near the bottom of the carrier, just within the kid's grasp, but not close enough for the child to be able to suck on one of the floppy ears. She was fairly sure Maura would literally shit a brick if the doctor found out that the kid had had any part of a toy that just came out of a backpack that got almost as much use as a pillow on the hard Boston streets as it's intended use.

"Thanks, Rondo." She slipped a twenty across to him, even if he wasn't useful right at that moment, he needed the money more than she did right now. She sighed, heading back to the Prius, preferring the Toyota for such excursions just because P71's were not designed to have car seats strapped to them, and it nearly impossible to buckle the kid properly in place without a herculean effort when she took the cruiser. And she was amazed at how easily Maura had adapted to their trade in cars on days like this. Previously, despite her pointing out repeatedly that the Crown Vic was in fact hers and that she had bought it on auction, and not actually city property, Maura had felt like it wasn't her place to drive a police car, but since the kid had been dropped on them, it was easier to admit that there were sometimes where practicality was far more important. So when she go the chance to leave work at a normal hour, and Maura had to stay to finish an autopsy for Crowe, it was just easier to swap cars.

She smiled as she saw the familiar sight of said car in front of the stately Beacon Hill home, pulling the Prius in as well, juggling the small collection of bags of staples that were just more economical to buy from the cheap grocery store than a fancy one – after all, a bottle of Coke was the same regardless of if it had a 10/$10 tag on it or a 2.39 for a two-liter tag on it. Same thing with Cocoa Puffs. She slipped inside, finding Maura perched at the kitchen counter, staring intently at a plaid-covered laptop, and she paused long enough to kick her shoes off before joining the ME.

She was surprised to see four open tabs in the browser window when she peered over Maura's shoulder. Two were background reasearch on KLW industries, one was some article that Jane didn't have to read past JSTOR to know it was something sciency, and the one that was currently being actively looked at - a collection of cribs with entirely extravigant price tags. "What are you doing? I'm pretty sure Ma's got the one that me and Tommy used when we were kids in storage somewhere. The kid doesn't need some fancy ass crib made from Paul Revere's pewter."

"Well, he is going to need a crib soon. Newborns outgrow bassinets by the time they reach five months old, and when you factor in shipping time, and how long it'll take to assemble-which if the fiasco with your new bed was any indication of what furniture assembly directions are like, will take at least a day." She couldn't help the laugh. Five months was a long way away.

"Maura, he's not even a month old! I'll dig out the old crib this weekend. Shit, where are we going to put it? He can't just stay in your bedroom forever. Or the next one-to-three at least."

"The guest room. I was planning on redoing it anyway, only now it gets to be a nursery."

"Maura you can't just-" She paused, frowning at the realization that this really was the best option. "I still feel bad about this. The fact that you've got my mother living in the guest house, and now the kid here, and you've done so much for my family, I don't even know how to pay you back."

"You already have." She quirked an eyebrow in confusion. "Before I met you, I didn't have much in my life outside of my job. I had a few fleeting, failed relationships, but I never really had friends before. Never had a family. And you-you brought that to me. You've done just as much for me-more, even, than what I'm doing now. And I want to do this. I enjoy it, even." She couldn't help the smile, even though it pained her to hear about how- rough really wasn't the right word for it, but she couldn't think of any other word for it - Maura's childhood had been. True, it wasn't something that you expected to see on some "feed the children" ad, but growing up alone like that-it couldn't have been pleasant. And Maura talked about it like it wasn't anything. It was just a fact of life.

She could feel the hair on the back of her neck stand up, her newfound sixth sense for baby problems kicking in and she had him in her arms a split second before he started wailing. "Really? You enjoy this?" She questioned, rocking the kid. "He was so well behaved this afternoon too. Just when I started getting hopeful, it starts up again." She tried to remember what Rondo had said earlier. "Hey, I met Rondo when I was at the store, he said that giving him a bath right after he starts up helps."

"I did read that. Go set up the tub." She handed the kid over and trudged up the stairs to the guest bathroom. She knew shed been the one who said that she'd be the man in any sort of relationship without one, but she was beginning to regret that thought, as somehow she'd wound up with all the annoying things, like the heavy lifting and assembling things and she really hated that Maura had insisted on one of those fancy-ass baby baths that took a damned engineering degree to put together. There was a beat before Maura came up the stairs, wailing kid in hand.

"You ready to quiet down now? Huh? You going to stop crying for Jane and I?" She couldn't help but smile at Maura's "baby voice". It was like it was designed to make people smile. She hung back a step, watching as Maura easily settled him into the bath, surprised to hear the crying lessen. It was still there, but it was gradually stopping. "Yeah, you like that Chrisopher? You think the water's soothing? Yeah, you're being a good boy for us? You're such a handesome young man, you're going to grow up to be a bery striking fellow." She watched, utterly captivated by how easy her friend made the bath look. Her own adventures with the kid and the bath usually ended with an armful of squirming infant and one very soaked Jane.

She groaned as her phone rang, staring at the offending item as she heard Maura' phone ring as well. "Rizzoli." She swore, as though the automated call giving her the location could possibly care about what it was interrupting. "C'mon, I'll go get Ma to play babysitter, we got a dead body."


	14. Chapter 14

A/N another phone written chapter. Subplot B rears its ugly head. Yes, I very much enjoy torturing Jane. Thank you all so much for all the kind words. And to those who asked...the actual rizzlesing is a few chapters away, still. This is not going to be a short thing...I'm of the "lots of short chaps" mentality over the "10 10k word chapters" but it does eventually get there.

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"So, what d'we got?" She asked as she slipped under the crime scene tape, holding it up so that Maura could slide beneath it as well.

"Dockworker. Morning shift found him when they came in. Name's John Lewis." She looked down at the stiff.

"Same MO. Dump job - no blood. Doesn't look like they left him with any particular care either. Drop and run. This time its three in the chest, but it looks like the same weapon on this one too." She frowned, leaving the dead body with Maura for prelims, surveying the rest of the scene. "Anyone report seeing a red van?" She questioned. "We got a footprint over here." She called one of the CSRU's over to take some shots of the marking.

She took a moment to survey the way that Korsak, Frost and Cooper were working the witnesses, the ones that had found the body, the ones that would have had a view of the street, try and see if there was any security camera footage. "Rizzoli!" She was surprosed to see Cavanaugh approaching her. "This is getting messy. Two dead vics, same MO, and one of them works and was founf here? Doesn't look good. Press is going to put the pieces together."

"I know, sir."

"Brass doesn't need to keep chasing your tails on this like you have been. Put the pieces together. And soonish."

"I always do, lieutenant."

"Why I didn't give this one to Crowe." She smiled at the tacit praise. "And Rizzoli?" She turned to the rapidly retreating form of her superior officer, who turned to walk backwards, "Does Angela have any plans for Friday night?" She was pretty sure her jaw bounced off the floor. At her wide-eyed gape the man just laughed. "I'll take that as a no. Remember Rizzoli, what the press is gonna say, I don't need the chief of D's crawling up my ass." She watched him leave, unsure of what to think at that comment.

She searched out Frankie from where he was assisting with the canvas. "What's up sis? You don't look so hot. I know that Topher's been giving you shit all week, but this looks-"

"Ok, first of all, Topher, really?" Frankie shrugged, "Second of all, Cavanaugh just asked if its cool if he asked Ma out on a date." She watched her brother's eyes widen in shock.

"I mean, you'd have to be blind not to notice that she's into him, but I always thought it was like her Bill O'Reilly thing. Just the whole 'nice Irish blue eyes' thing."

"Vomit."

"He really asked your permission?" She could hear the awe in her brother's voice.

"He asked me if she had plans. He knew full well I could tell him to go fuck himself."

"But you didn't."

"We are on the clock. Kinda seems wrong to tell your boss to fuck off on the clock, y'know?"

"You think that's why I didn't make detective?" She felt a protective jolt of anger flood her as she considered the possibility before sense won out.

"Cooper already was a detective. I hear Robbery has an opening. Its not as glam, but it beats patrol." Another shrug. "I don't think it was cause of Ma, Frankie. Cavanaugh's not like that. He's a good guy."

"Which is why he doesn't have a second asshole right now?" Her turn to shrug.

"I mean, its weird as hell, but what has been normal in my life these last few weeks? I mean, once Friday comes and I realize that Ma's _actually_ on a date with my boss I'll totally be on complete freakout mode, but right now, its like the first couple of days with the kid. So much in shock that I didn't know what to feel." There was an intrigued quirk of her brother's eyebrow.

"And now?"

"Now? Now I'm kinda cool with spending the next few months playing babysitter. I still think it was a dick move for Tommy and Lydia to dump their kid on me, but I'm cool with it. I don't like it, but I've sorta accepted it, you know?"

"Glad to see you're stepping up to bat, sis. I know you hate to hear it, but you're good with Topher." She glared at her brother.

"He is not going to get called Topher. Not on my watch." Her brother grinned at her, and she retreated back to Maura, wanting nothing more than to bury herself in this case and not thing that involved the kid. "What's TOD?" She asked, kneeling down next to her friend.

"Well, lividity suggests 4-5 hours ago. I won't be able to be more conclusive until the autopsy." She nodded, looking over the corpse as though there was something else to be found. "Is everything all right?"

"Frankie thinks Topher is the greatest nickname in the world." There was a pause, followed by a chuckle. "What? Frankie wasn't man enough to take care of the kid, he does not get to give him a nickname." She shared a grin with Maura.

"While Topher is an unconvential nickname compared to the more common-"

"Could do without the etymology lesson. Anything else stand out about the vic?"

"Nothing as of yet. I'll let you know as soon as the autopsy is complete." She frowned, heading off to find her partner hoping that the security camera footage could tell her something.

"Please tell me you've got something." She all but whined.

"Nope." She watched the footage flashing by.

"Wait. Pause it. What's that?" She questioned, pointing at the corner of one of the screens. "Its a van." Unfortunately a black and white scurity camera couldn't give them what color the van was painted, but it was something. "Cavanaugh wants to take my mother out. Like this month could get any worse."

"Wait, like as in our boss Cavanaugh? Damn I gotta get that bunny pancake recipe, I'll be up to my neck in fine ass women if your mother can snag Cavanaugh with them."

"Really? Don't wanna think of my mother serving bunny pancakes to the LT. This is all too fucking much. Couldn't he have, like, waited or something?"

"The world does not revolve around you, partner." She scowled at Frost.

"Still. He knows I just got this kid dumped on me a month ago, I'm stuck with the family fuck up, we've got this-" She gestured at the monitor in front of them "-Giant mess, and he drops _by the way I've got a date with your mother on Friday_ in between _the press is going to have a field day_ comments." She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Wait, what's that?" She questioned, pointing at the van, and something stenciled on the back. "Can you zoom in?"

"Not here, but I'll get this back to BRIC ASAP." She gave another sigh, this one more of relief than anything.


	15. Chapter 15

A/N $10 says you can't guess what movie I was watching while writing this chapter. Thank you all again so much for all the love y'all are showing for this.

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She sighed, staring down at the kid next to her, wanting nothing more but to scream in frustration. Three days. It had been three days since they got their only lead on this case. The van, with a KLW subsidiary etched on its rear window, their only hint as to who was behind this. But outside of KLW they had nothing. And being one of the largest holding companies in the state made it rather difficult to talk to any of the higher ups, hidden away behind lawyer after lawyer. Throw in a kid that did not want to just Shut The Fuck Up waiting for her at home every night, and the fact that right at that moment her mother was at Traino's enjoying overpriced Italian food with her goddamned boss, well, to say Jane Rizzoli was not having a good week was sort of like calling water wet. It was an accurate description, but not nearly enough of one.

She stared at her notes, willing some sort of connection to surface. Their dead electrician worked for KLW and the van that dumped him did as well. There was something there. The dockworker had been working for a different KLW subsidiary. She was starting to think most of Boston worked for a KLW subsidiary. Once she started digging, she discovered just how vast their reachings were. Communications, mostly, was their focus - cell phones, a cellphone retailer, the advertising firm, and the import company for all their raw materials - all of it was owned by the holding company. She glared down at where the kid was starting to fidget and go into one of his crying jags again, frown firmly settling over her face.

The front door opened and she glanced up to see Maura arriving, juggling groceries and keys and she got up to help. "So, what's for dinner?" She asked, looking over the collection of food items, helping tuck them into their allotted places in the kitchen, pausing every now and then to look up and check on the kid, making sure that he was fine where he was lying face down on the couch, still breathing, still healthy. She was getting more comfortable with the leaving him alone when she was in the house thing.

They danced easily around each other as they put everything away, having gotten rather good with the routine over the past four weeks. "Your turn to cook." She frowned, looking in the direction of the guest house, half a mind to call her mother just to come cook for her. Before remembering that her mother was on a date. With her boss. "There may or may not be a bag of that ravioli that you love in one of these bags. And- " The frown quickly faded as she watched Maura wave a jar of the good wild mushroom whatever sauce that she never admitted that she loved and pretended to grumble about because it was _organic_ and _healthy_ and very frou-frou. Frozen ravioli, that she thought she could manage, even with her foul mood. Fill pot, turn on stove, dump in ravioli, strain. Easy enough.

"You're perfect, you know that?" She hadn't quite intended the thought to actually be voiced, but the pleased smirk she got back in return was worth it.

"I just know you too well. And I know that you've had been in a terrible mood all day." She grinned, fetching the large stock pot and filling it with water. She was starting to get to know Maura's kitchen better than her own. Then again, Maura kept everything neat and organized, her pots were usually in a never ending cycle of stove to dishwasher and back again, never actually making it to the cupboard designated to them. Maura's kitchen, she never had to ask if the items in the dishwasher were clean or dirty, as as soon as the drying cycle was complete, the items therein were put away, unlike her own where she had to visually check to see what state the appliance was in, and where she found herself more often than not having to hand wash a fork for dinner.

She heard the kid start fussing again, and headed to the couch after turning on the stove, smirking at how two seconds later the temperature was adjusted by Maura. Always the damned perfectionist. She blinked when she rounded the corner though, surprised to see the kid looking back up at her, chin resting on the cushion. Somewhere along the way he'd picked up the skill of being able to lift his head. She grinned, gently rubbing the tiny back before picking the kid up and settling him down against her, his back propped up by her abs. She felt the other side of the couch dip down next to her, and frowned when Maura went to take control of the remote. She watched as Maura skipped straight to the 120's, where all the _smart people channels_ were. All the NatGeos, all the Discovery, Science, etc. channels. She spied the familiar red the demarcated a movie hiding just below BBC. "Put on 131." Maura quirked an eyebrow.

"How many times have you seen this movie?" She knew she'd already subjected her friend to it twice when it was her turn to pick the movie for the night, but what was wrong with the third time being the charm?

"And how many times have you made me watch Casablanca? They're both classics."

"You _like_ Casablanca."

"And you like The Replacements. You laugh every time they bust out with the electric slide in the endzone. Besides, it's only like Keanu's best movie after Point Break."

"Point Break was a terible movie." Jane gaped at her best friend.

"Patrick Swayze. Keanu Reeves. Surfing and bank robberies. What is not to like?" She looked down at the kid, "You hear that, kiddo? She doesn't like Point Break. I'm starting to think she _is_ some sort of cyborg. There's no way any human on this earth can dislike Point Break." She could feel Maura's indignant look as she grinned. She wondered how the hell the day had turned around so quickly. Fifteen minutes ago, she'd been absolutely miserable, run ragged, and emotionally wore out, and now here she was grinning. She handed the kid off to Maura as she got up to go add the ravioli to the now boiling water, unable to help the faint smile that came with watching Maura gently bouncing the kid on one knee, saying something quietly to him. "Anything she says about me is a lie, remember that."

She looked at the tiny figure, wondering when the hell this _parenting_ thing became so natural between them. To be quite frank, she was doing a lot of wondering, period. They'd had this kid a month now, and somehow managed not to kill, maim, or otherwise harm it. He was a happy, healthy, one month old child. If it wasnt for the fact that she was staring at the proof of it in front of her, she wouldn't have believed it if you told her that she would actually do somewhat decent at raising a child. Maura deserved a lot of the praise, true, but somehow playing babysitter this long hadn't ended in disaster, and she was actually coming to _enjoy_ it, even though she would never admit that out loud. To anyone. Ever. But there was something calming about the kid. Even when he was wailing his head off, there was something grounding about holding the infant. Something instinctual. Something that made her feel - she didn't know _what_ the feeling was, but she felt it.

She'd never really liked to name her feelings, preferring to try and deny that she actually had any of pesky things. No, the only feelings she liked were the gut ones that helped her break cases. She glanced at the file folder, containing everything they had on everything involved with the case. "Anything?" Maura asked, and she shook her head no, reaching to page through it again.

"Why did KLW want both of these guys dead? And why do they look like mob hits? Left out in the open for everyone to see - they're sending a message, but to who?"

"You think Kenbarr-Levitt-Wooten is behind all this?"

"It's the best lead we've got. Both vics worked for them, the bodies were dumped by people that work for them. "

"Perhaps the message is being sent to them. It could be someone with a bone to pick with the company." This was why she liked spending time with Maura. The woman was the perfect sounding board for her theories, always willing to provide an alternate theory fof the crime, make her really think hard and consider all the posibilities.

"Disgruntled ex-employee?" She hypothesized, earning a considering look from the woman sitting next to her. "They're publicly traded, aren't they?" She was already reaching for the laptop that was currently sitting on the far end of the table. She paused for a second, looking at the last six months worth of financial data. "They've been holding steady – nothing new or groundbreaking, no sudden changes in share price – and why would an investor go after two employees? I really think the company is behind this." She pursed her lips in thought, before looking up at the television as the _Ole _chant began on the screen, smiling as she got up to drain the ravioli and prepare two platefuls, her own absolutely smothered in sauce, and Maura's with a considerably more reserved portion of it, before settling down on the couch, content to spend the next hour or so watching a silly sports comedy movie with Maura and the kid.


	16. Chapter 16

Movie over, dishes washed, she found herself again returning to the case file in front of her, skimming over the autopsy results again. "Wait a minute – Maur, you said he had a surgical scar over his right side, and you found – whatever the hell _that_ is" she pointed at some incredibly long pharmaceutical, "In his system."

"Trimethoprim and sulfamethoxazole, more commonly called by it's brand name, Bactrim. Commonly used for lifelong post-transplant prevention of pneumocystic pneumonia."

"Did he have a liver transplant?" Maura skimmed the results as well before nodding. "He's missing the bile ducts and portal vein that connect the liver to-"

"Maura, anything more than 'the hip bone's connected to the thigh bone' is over my head. You said our other vic had liver damage too. Maybe they were bar buddies?"

"But _this_ victim's liver is pristine."

"Former bar buddies? How long ago was the transplant?"

"Judging from the advanced stage of healing, at least three or four years ago." She frowned. They were either very old bar buddies, or they didn't know each other at all, or-

"Hey wait, the tattoo on his arm, that look familiar to you?" She asked, suddenly focusing on the picture of their second victim's forearm, and frowned when Maura gave a slight head shake. "I've seen that before. I know I have." She wracked her brain, trying to think of _where_ she had seen it before. It was simple, geometric, could have simply been a nice design. "That had to hurt like a bitch, getting it in the crook of your arm like that?"

"I've heard tattoos are not nearly as painful as they appear to be."

"Tell that to Frankie." She snorted into her beer bottle. "He dragged me along and was hanging on to my hand so tight I'm surprised he didn't squeeze it off."

"Frankie has a tattoo?"

"Yeah, on his thigh. Was the biggest baby in his life throughout the whole thing. Kinda pointless if you ask me. Why bother getting ink if you're just going to cover it up all the time? I mean, it doesn't even show in shorts."

"Perhaps it's meaningful for him?" There was a pause before she doubled over laughing, only to quickly sober up when she realized that the outburst had woken the kid from where he'd been dozing against Maura, turning his head to look at the sound.

"Sorry, kiddo. Didn't mean to wake you." Maura shared a small smile with her as they watched the kid squirm and fidget, already preparing themselves for another round of nonstop wailing, surprised when it didn't come. "I really, really, wanna hope that we're done with that." Maura's smile brightened slightly.

"I wouldn't hold out. Colic is supposed to peak at six weeks."

"Fine, then two weeks without it would be nice." She stared back at the picture of the tattoo. It was the logo to something, what it was, she couldn't remember. A triangle inscribed within a circle. She'd seen it before, on something. She remembered seeing it on her mother's kitchen table, both in the guest house and when the Rizzoli family home was still the Rizzoli family home, but only a few times, and only in certain situations. Finally, the realization hit her. She'd only ever seen it when Tommy was around. "It's the AA logo. Ma used to leave meeting schedules out for Tommy as a hint." She sighed as she checked the clock. "Dammit, it's too late to call the wife, see if she knew anything about what meetings he went to. Shame our PI-slash-electrician didn't have any family, friends, anything really we could canvas. Maybe that's where they knew each other-" She paused as she pulled out her phone, dialing the fifth number lodged into her speeddial.

"Hey, Frost, did you pull the phone records for our vics? Did they ever contact each other, ever?" She could hear Frost clicking away at a keyboard on the other end of the phone.

"Not exactly. But they did both call the same burn phone, at weird-ass times too. Lewis' calls usually only lasted a second or two, and generally were directly before that phone made an outbound call. When Davison called, the calls were usually a couple of minutes." She thought for a second.

"Wait, like a few seconds – like someone calling the phone to find it when it was lost in the couch cushions? Frost, make sure that Lewis' widow is at the station first thing in the morning. I think we've got something here." She grinned as she sat back on the couch, giving in to Maura's choice of television, surprisingly finding something on the Science Channel interesting. Then again, _When Earth Erupts_ was something that could promise entertainingly over-the-top dramatizations. "Still want to have that wedding inside of a volcano?" She joked, earning her a playful swat.

"I said I'd make sure it was dormant first."

"They just said _that_" She pointed to the screen, showing a massive mess of scorching orange lava flowing down a hill, swallowing everything it touched whole, "Was a dormant volcano."

"There are plenty of completely dormant volcanoes that no longer lie along subduction zones that could create the proper circumstances for a volcanic eruption."

"With your luck, you'd pick the one that would decide to pull some sort of freak out-of-nowhere eruption. Like eye-a-fuck-it-all a few years ago."

"_Language_." Maura pointedly held up the kid and she did her best to look apologetic. "Studies show that infants are able to understand the meanings of almost five hundred words before they can even start to talk. And Eyjafjallajokull, like most of Iceland's volcanoes has never been dormant."

She gave a small grin, looking down at Maura and the kid. "Well, regardless of how dormant the volcano is, I'm sure you'd be able to force even nature to bend to your will, Dr. Bossypants." She grinned as another playful swat landed on her shoulder.

"I thought you were the bossy one?"

"How about we're both bossy? Sorry kiddo, you're not going to stand a chance so long as you're with us." She found her body moving with no conscious thought as she leaned down and brushed her lips softly across a wrinkled forehead. When she pulled back she found Maura giving her _that _look again, the same one she'd gotten the last time she had showed any sort of genuine affection for the kid. "What?" She questioned, not knowing what was so strange about showing the kid she got stuck babysitting for god only knew how long, some love? After all, it wasn't like anyone else was stepping up to the plate.


	17. Chapter 17

The next morning dawned entirely too early as she slipped from the bed, smiling upon realizing that Maura had managed to sleep straight through the alarm for once. Making sure that the snooze was still set, she checked on the kid, plucking him free of the bassinet and padding downstairs to the kitchen, having managed the dance of preparing both formula and coffee at the same time. By the time she had finished feeding the kid and was halfway through her first cup, a bleary eyed version of her best friend appeared in the kitchen. "Morning, sleepyhead." She got a noncommital grunt of something in response. Maura running on less than a perfect amount of sleep was always one of her favorite things to see. The normally perfectly composed shell faded away into frizzy curls, freckles, and yawns. She handed over the other cup she had prepared, just the way Maura liked it, and she watched as the hot liquid instantly brought life into her friend.

"Thanks. I can't wait until he's old enough to put in a jogging stroller, I miss waking up and going for a run." She groaned.

"Really? I was really hoping that this kid would have gotten me _out_ of the morning run." There was a grin flashed to match her pout. "Only you would find two ways to torture me at once. The kid, and the morning run, at the same time. Great." There was a laugh in response to her sarcastic commentary, and her fake pout grew deeper. "Fine, you know what? Just for that, you get diaper duty. I'm going to go shower."

She ran through her morning routine quickly, slipping into her familiar suit for the day, transitioning easily from glorified babysitter to hardened detective. "I have our vics widow coming in first thing, I'll see you at work." She grinned at Maura and the kid, pausing to rub the first downy covering of pale hair coming in on a tiny head, and clipping her gun and badge on as she walked out the door to her cruiser. "Hey, partner." She said as she slipped behind her desk, unsurprised to see Frost there and Korsak not in yet.

"Hey yourself. We've got Lewis' widow in conference two." She nodded, grabbing three cups of coffee in a practiced dance, one for her, one for Frost, one for their witness, sliding one in front of each person in question, along with a few creamers and a few packets of sugar.

"Mrs. Lewis? I'm very sorry that we had to drag you here this morning, but I have a few questions about your husband that I was hoping you can answer."

"Whatever you need to know, detective, if it means bringing you closer to whoever did this to John." Andrea Lewis was a stoic woman. There were obvious signs of exhaustion, of grief written on an aged face, but the blond head was still held high. There were no wavering notes in a strong voice.

"Your husband, he was in Alcoholics Anonymous?"

"Sober fifteen years." There was pride in that voice. "He loved the program, it helped him so much, and he helped others so much through it. He's never had a sponsee fall off the wagon. He led his home group, helped organize the holiday party, the program – it was like a calling for him, to be able to help others that way."

"Did you ever meet any of the people he sponsored?" Mrs. Lewis shook her head.

"Only one or two, of the first ones. He didn't like involving me with what he used to be like. He used to pick the black sheep to sponsor. The bad guys. He said that if he couldn't help them, no one could, but I knew the sorts of people he had sponsored before. One of the few ones I did meet turned out to be Paddy Doyle's son." She bristled at the name, but tried not to let it show. Great, another frigging Doyle connection in the case.

"Did he have a separate phone that he used for people he knew from AA?" Frost questioned, earning another nod.

"Yes. He didn't want those sorts of people involved in our private lives. He was always willing to take the time to talk with anyone from his meetings, or go to get a cup of coffee with them, anything they needed to not drink, but he didn't want the kids and I dragged into it." She smiled faintly. "So he kept a prepaid phone just for them."

"Did he mention this man, Mike Davison, at all?" She passed the photo across to the woman, getting a slight shake of the head.

"No, not that I recall."

"Did he mention if any of the people he sponsored was having it rougher than usual? Had something big going on?"

"He did mention that one of his sponsees was going through something rough with work. Something that was really trying to sobriety, and he was proud of the man for not drinking because he wasn't sure _he_ could keep sober with what the man was facing. But he always refused to say what happened in his meetings. He kept saying that the rooms were like Vegas, what happened in the rooms stayed in the rooms. He never told me any of what was shared unless he was speaking at a meeting and he wanted me to proof read his speech." She gave a polite smile at the woman.

"Thank you, Mrs. Lewis. You've been very helpful." She sighed. So it was looking like Lewis got axed because of whatever Davison had told him. Something someone wanted to keep under wraps.

"Anything I can do."

"Mrs. Lewis, one more thing-" She asked, the question suddenly popping into her head, "How many people knew that your husband sponsored Colin Doyle?"

"A few. I know he used it when he was trying to gain the confidence of a sponsee that thought that no one would want to sponsor them. He said the ex-cons ate that story up like candy. He viewed himself like a priest sometimes, willing to listen to the most horrific stories in stride because he knew he was helping these men and women." That could explain the MO.

"Thank you, again. If there's anything else you can think of-"

"You'll be the first to know." She gave the woman a consoling pat on the arm, walking her out of the precinct.

"That went well." She turned to Frost, arms crossed against her stomach, puzzling the pieces together as she stared at the dry-erase board.

"Yeah. So Davison found something at work, and got killed. Whoever killed him found out that Davison told his sponsor what was going on, killed Lewis."

"How'd they find Lewis though? Sounds like he did a really good job of keeping himself private just for this reason."

"Maybe it was someone else Lewis sponsored? If he spoke at open meetings, then any alcoholic in Boston could know who he was. Hell, probably half the east coast." She frowned, before grabbing pictures of each of their vics, and heading towards the door.

"Where are you going?"

"Jail. Tommy _was_ doing real good before all this. Maybe he knows some people that they had in common. You coming?" The ride to the jail was somewhat tense, as she called ahead to make sure Tommy was waiting for her when they got there. She was glad that she was there in an official capacity, granted an interrogation room rather than having to talk to her brother over a phone with a sheet of plexiglass between them.

"Sis, what're you doing here? And why's _he _here?"

"You know either of these guys?" She placed the photos on the table in front of her brother and he nodded.

"What's this about?"

"They both were killed by the same guy. We know Lewis was Davison's sponsor, but we're wondering who else knew."

"I knew John. I mean, when they come out with the next version of the big book I'm pretty sure he's going to have his own chapter. Dude's like, an AA saint or something. Mike – I met him once. He was at my usual meeting as like, an emergency meeting. You could tell he was trying really hard not to fuck things up. He didn't share, but he and I were bullshitting after, said that the not drinking thing was the easy part, it was dealing with all the shit outside while sober that sucked. I gave him John's number." She grinned at her brother, hating the way he looked.

"Thanks, Tommy. You know orange is really not your color." He rolled his eyes at her, frowning. "Was there anyone else that you know of that knew that Lewis was Davison's sponsor?" Tommy shrugged.

"I don't know, like I said, Mike didn't go to my usual meeting. He didn't say what his home group was, but they'd know better than I would." She gave a faint smile at her little brother, turning to leave. "Hey, sis?" Frost continued to exit, already able to predict what this conversation would be about.

"Yeah, Tommy?"

"How's the -uh, y'know, kid?"

"Colicky as hell. Little shit hasn't stopped wailing for more than four hours straight for the last two weeks." Even as she was complaining, she felt the corners of her mouth twitching upward of their own accord, and she did her best to force them downwards.

"Y'know, Lydia sent me a letter in here. She told me what she did. She uh – well – every time she saw you, you and Maura were hanging out. She thought that you two – well, that you'd make better moms than she could ever hope to be. She, uh - " There was a piece of paper thrust at her and she read it, blinking a few times as she did.

Lydia wasn't the first person to have assumed she and Maura were a couple, but :Lydia had said that the kid deserved to be raised by two people that loved so wholeheartedly. That was new. That was different. It was one thing to shrug off the assumptions that had been made the last time they had took the kid out together, laughing about the look one crotchety old man had given them in the co-op parking lot, as though he was about to have an apoplectic fit between the two of them and Jack and Ed, whose names she had learned the last time she had run into the couple and their daughter, Colleen. But while it was one thing for people to make assumptions about them, it was another thing for someone to say that they saw, and she quoted _real, honest-to-god love_ there.

"I still think you're an ass for doing what you did." Is all she said as she passed the note back to her brother.

"Yeah, wasn't my brightest move ever. But Jane, I – even if that kid's mine, I'd be hopeless as a father. You know that. You may not wanna believe it sis, but I do. Lydia's right, that kid deserves better than me." She sighed, before gesturing with one hand.

"C'mere." She pulled her brother close to her, wrapping him in a tight embrace, feeling his handcuffed hands wrap around her neck in an awkward return of the gesture. "No more doing stupid shit, OK?"

"Ok."


	18. Chapter 18

She frowned at the creaky groan of metal against metal as she lifted the rolling door to the storage unit that contained the last remaining remnants of the Rizzoli family home, stacked against the walls in neat rows of boxes. She looked at her brother, her mother, and Maura all gathered around her, the kid safely ensconced in Angela's arms. "Right, so, where's all our old baby stuff?" She asked, curious to know which dark corner the things that had been shared between all three Rizzoli children had been shoved into. She strode forward, reading what she could of the labels.

"I think it's in the back."

"Really? I woulda figured you leave it front and center as a giant hint to whichever one of us came in here for anything."

"Well now I have one grandbaby. I still expect more of them though. You're not getting any younger either, Frankie."

"Ma, I probably would have a dozen kids by now if you didn't keep scaring off every girl I date by getting straight to the baby thing the first time you meet them." This was what her Saturday mornings were going to be like from now, on, wasn't it? The first few free minutes where she wasn't focused on either the kid or the case, and it was being spent going through a storage unit, seeing what they could salvage to give to the kid.

She scanned the names on the boxes – old pots and pans, and she found herself finding her grandmother's cast iron skillet, much to her mother's delight, who uttered an _I've been looking for this everywhere!_ in response to finding the pan in question. Some of her, and her brothers' clothing from when they were kids, and she grinned when she found a reminder of the first concert she had ever gotten to go see, a faded old Bon Jovi t-shirt where she had circled the _6/28 – Mansfield, Mass _in sharpie some twenty years previously. She hadn't thought her mother had kept that. More boxes were worked through, each row seeming to move backwards chronologically.

She found a box of old stuffed animals, laughing as Frankie found the old stuffed swordfish that he had dragged around with him everywhere. "I can't believe you kept Mr. Fins! And Jane – look -" There was a battered knee-high stuffed tiger pulled out from the box, and she didn't know whether to flush with embarrassment or grin.

"You really kept these, Ma?" She asked, holding the stuffed creature that had obviously seen better days by one tattered ear.

"Of course I did. Georgie ought to be in there too-" She found the teddy bear in question. "You know, Tommy was never as close to George as you two were with Mr. Fins and Tigey Tig. I swear, Janie, you wanted to bring him with you to the first day of kindergarten!" This time, she did blush, ignoring Maura's amused look.

"Hey, you try being the first in the family to have to go to school, when all the older kids in the neighborhood were telling you that you were going to get eaten alive by monsters on the first day!"

"Sis, you carried that thing around with you everywhere for-as long as I can remember. Remember when we used to send them bungie jumping with a jump rope off the staircase?"

"Yeah, remember when _you_ broke Ma's favorite vase doing that and made me take the blame?" Frankie paled, and she doubled over laughing.

"Shame on you, making your sister get punished in your place."

"I didn't _make_ her, she volunteered. She knew you were going to be pissed."

"Well I was!" She watched her mother warily as the woman moved to talk to Maura, working hr way through more of the boxes, searching for whatever could be helpful to them. "Whatever you do, Maura, do not let my daughter be the disciplinarian. This child will wind up eating ice cream for breakfast and pancakes for dinner and causing utter havoc. Don't be afraid to give Jane time-outs either, she's probably going to deserve them."

"Hey, I can hear you, you know! And what's wrong with ice cream for breakfast?" She questioned, looking at her brother for backup.

"Uh-uh sis, I know when to keep my trap shut." She tossed the stuffed animal in her hand at her brother's head. She reached the back of the unit, looking around for any tell-tale signs of wood. She could find the old high-chair that had served all three Rizzoli children well, and pulled it free of where it had been lodged, testing it with one forceful palm against the seat, making sure that the legs were not going to give out any time soon.

She glanced over to where Maura had plucked out a stuffed animal from the box of such things, waving it in front of he tiny face still ensconced in her mother's arms. She can't help the slight smile that crosses her face as she watches the way the kid can now track it easily with his eyes, amazed at where a gaze was unsteady just days ago was now firmly fixed to anything passed in front of him, able to easy follow along. It was an utterly transfixing sight. Maura and her mother, both spending time with the kid, and the kid happily grinning along. She paused, elbow deep in the box she was going through as she took in the sight. The kid was grinning. Not one of the "reflex smiles" that Maura had gone on at length about, no, this was a smile of absolute joy. Hadn't amura said that it would take at least – she ticked off how long it was that they had been playing babysitter.

Six weeks. They'd had this kid for six weeks. She supposed this was why Maura had been crib shopping two weeks ago, knowing their hectic schedules. But they'd spent the last two weeks going to every single damn AA meeting they could find to try and figure out who knew Davison and who knew Lewis. Everyone, it seemed, knew Lewis. No one, it seemed, knew Davison. The man seemingly showed up to work every day, went home every night, and had no friends, no neighbors he was close to, no family. But everything about the case seemed to fade to the background as she took in the sight of Maura, her mother, and the kid, and the grin on the kid's face.

It wasn't until she saw Maura break free to reach for a ringing phone that she realized hers was buzzing on her hip as well. She frowned as she plucked it free, answering without even looking at it, getting the address, and then looking at her family. "You girls go, Frankie and I will finish up here."

"Thanks, Ma." She gave a slight wave goodbye as she hopped into Maura's car, leaving her mother and Frankie with Frankie's truck.

"You look pennsive." Maura commented as they drove, and it took a moment for the words to filter to her brain.

"What? Yeah. Can you believe we've had that kid for six weeks now?"

"I know. At least he seems to be a little less colicky now."

"I think last night was the first time I've slept for more than two hours at once." They shared an easy smile.

"He's much better behaved than I thought he would be, though. Outside of the colic, he's been very easy to take care of."

"He could be worse, I guess. I thought screaming for no reason for four hours a day was the exact opposite of _easy going_ but to each their own, I suppose."

"He's not fussy over eating, he's clearly interested in the world around him – did you see him earlier? He's naturally curious."

"Yeah, hopefully he got more than Lydia's solitary brain cell." She frowned at Maura's giddy grin. She was _not_ going to get attached to this kid, no matter how cute it was when he grinned. She was a glorified babysitter, nothing more, nothing less. She tried to ignore the thought of just how much she could imagine the same scene playing out a hundred other times, Maura, her mother, the kid, all looking so happy together, with her standing back with a sense of all being right with the world. That was a feeling she definitely did not need in her life, especially _not_ as she walked on to a crime scene. By the time she got out of the car, she was back in full detective mode, ready to face whatever they had in front of them.


	19. Chapter 19

A/N yeah, the case is subplot C so it gets fast-fowarded through. Don't worry, the Rizzles-ness will come before the kid becomes a proper todler, I will say that much...I actually have the three chapters where it goes from purely platonic to very Rizzles written. it's just getting to that point that is the hard part. And yes, I am a Sean/Angela S3 and tell me there is nothing there, and I'll show you two very different shows we've been watching there. Korsak had his chance circa S2, and blew it by never making a move.

* * *

She sighed as she slumped in her desk, wanting nothing more than to groan in frustration. Two months. They'd been chasing their tails for two fuckingmonths on this case. And nothing was panning out. All they had to show for it were three dead bodies. Lewis, Davison, and now a twenty four year old journalist. There was no connection they could find between Jennifer Meacham and either of their past two victims. At least they'd formed the tennuous bond between Lewis and Davison, but Meacham, Meacham was a completely new variable.

Frost had been spending most of the past week trying to decode the few fragments of auto-recovery files they'd found on her laptop, trying to figure out what she was working on when she took two to the chest with an icepick. There were no signs of any story she had been working on – no notes, her cell phone was meticuluously erased, datebook intentionally vague. The girl had been an investigative reporter, and her coworkers had said that she'd been on to "something big" but hadn't ever given more details than that.

It was certainly big all right. Three dead bodies and counting. She found herself with her left thumb digging into her right palm, as she stared at the dispatch widget slowly ticking away calls. Two DUIs, impressive for one in the afternoon. One mugging. Four domestic violence calls. Two people running red lights. And none of it of any help to her. She sighed, trying to put all the pieces together. She hated cases like this. It didn't help that now that one of their own was gone, the press _was_ turning it into a field day.

She flipped through the datebook in front of her, scanning each now-familiar entry, willing something, _anything_ to jump out at her. Her phone buzzed against her hip and frowned as she looked down at it, glad for some sort of distraction to stop her from tearing out her hair, hoping that it was someone with some sort of lead. Instead, she found herself facing a picture message from Maura, and blinked twice before she realized what the picture was of. She'd completely forgotten that her friend had taken the kid to the pediatrician, ready for the first round of shots. And sure enough, the picture was of the kid, wrapped tightly in the nurse's arms, bright blue bandaid on an upper thigh, and the note _hardly even cried_ jotted beneath it. "That baby stuff again?" Frost asked and she looked up to where her partner was sitting.

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

"You get this little smile on your face every time the Doc or your babysitter whatever texts you something about the baby." She found herself instantly scowling.

"Do not."

"Do too. It's cute."

"Cute would be my foot up your ass." Its a weak response, and she knows it, but it was the best she could come up with running on too much caffiene and not enough sleep. "You got anything off that laptop?" He shook his head.

"The closest thing I've got is whatever she was writing probably had to do with KLW."

"How'd you get that?" She asked, moving to stand behind her partner.

"She used Whatpulse – it's like a competition thing to see how much you type compared to the rest of the world. Look at her key frequency chart – last time she reset it was three months ago, and look at how many K's and W's she used – she had to be writing about something where those letters would come up frequently."

"So Davison uncovered something about KLW, told Lewis, and Meacham, and got himself killed for it. What on earth do these guys have hiding in their closets that they're willing to kill three people to keep it quiet? And why the ice pick?" She was pacing in front of the whiteboard. "Their financials look good, everything they've done is above-board, unless they're pulling some, like, Enron shit or something with cooked books." She sighed, collapsing back behind her desk, scanning through Outlook for the contact she wanted. Shooting off a quick email to the forensic accountant that BPD employed, she found herself scowling at the dispatch scanner again. Hopefully Sorensen would be able to dig something up.

She watched her brother respond to a drunk in public charge, and found herself pulling up the date, groaning as she realized that she'd somehow managed to completely ignore Columbus Day. Of course a federal holiday would lead to more drunk assholes than usual. The scary thing was the realization that they'd wound up with the kid prior to labor day, and it was now Columbus Day, and she had settled into something that could be defined as downright routine. She found herself texting a reply to the picture she had received _So now Jo can come home from the guest house, right?_ "See, Rizzoli, there you go being all Pappa Bear."

She glowered at her partner. "First of all, Pappa Bear, really, that's the best you can come up with? Second of all, I'm sure you've seen enough horror movies to know who dies first to creatures with terrible claws."

"How funny, Rizzoli, respond to a gay joke with a black joke." Ignoring Crowe, she turned to Frost.

"Hey, what do you call Crowe the day he has two brain cells?"

"What?"

"The day he gets knocked up." She took a moment to howl with laughter at the expense of the other detective who threw a withering glance their way as he headed through the bullpen to the group of desks he commanded. "You know he'd be the bitch in any relationship. _Oh, Crowe, sweetie, can you get me that?_" She said with feigned obsequiousness, earning another round of laughs from her partner. "Vomit."

"Oh, and you're so different, Rizzoli." She glared across her desk at Frost. "_Jane, I have some lab results for you_." Fighting the urge to throw something at her partner she merely put on a forced grin.

"Y'know, Maura has been saying something about immersion therapy being good for overcoming fears. I'm sure you could learn so much from an autopsy." She couldn't help the chuckle as her partner paled to somewhere along her skin tone. "I'm sure I could arrange something-"

"You wouldn't dare."

"Just keep telling me I'm cute." She deadpanned, even though she knew she had a smile on her face as Maura texted an assent to the dog returning back to their home. After all, now that the kid had been plied full of various antibodies, what harm could Jo do?

"Ok, ok, you're not cute – you're...badassly awesome. Better?"

"You're getting there." She flipped through the last months worth of entries in the datebook. "Hey, is there anything on that laptop of anything that happened on July 26th, or august 7th?" the latter date was the day before Davison had gotten murdered, and there was the same _Meeting with Sid..._

"She wrote...something on each of those days, but outside of a record of the save, there's nothing."

"She met with Sid the day before Davison got whacked...and there's a meeting with -" She froze for a second, looking at the datebook. "Frost, did anyone say anything about Davison having a girlfriend at all?"

"One guy at an AA meeting said that Davison was trying to stay sober for his girl, but that was it." She flipped back through the datebook.

"Cause she might be next." she pulled the relevant pages from the datebook out, pinning the to the whiteboard. August 7th, _Meeting with Sid._ August 24th, _Meeting with Malcolm._ And October 12th, _Meeting with Nancy._

"How do you figure that, Rizzoli?" She looked up at Korsak who had just sauntered in with a box of donuts.

"Sid. Nancy. Malcolm. Haven't any of you listened to the Sex Pistols?" She flipped through the rest of the datebook. "See, look, last story she worked on – all of her sources were Joe, Mick, Paul Topper-" She pulled up the last article Meacham wrote, exposing corruption within the union that operated the T. "And the one before that – Joey, Tommy, Johnny, Dee Dee and CJ? She nicknames her sources by punk bands..." She paged through the datebook at appointments set for the future. "She had an appointment set with a JR and a Matlock..."

"Matlock was the original bassist for the Sex Pistols, wasn't he? Maybe it's someone who got forced off the job so Davison could take over-" She gave an impressed look to her former partner. "What? I was an angry vet at one time. You think I don't have a soft spot in my heart for the Clash and the Sex Pistols?" She paused for a moment, pulling out the crime scene photos, her eyes falling on a work bench tucked into a corner with a Fender Stratocaster set upon it. "Hey, Frost, if I could provide you with a thumb drive, what do you think you can do with it?"

"Whatever you want, partner, why?" She grinned to herself, thinking she might finally be on to something.

"We've got a dozen guitars to dismember. Who's coming with me?" She asked, already plucking her jacket from the back of her seat as she strode towards the doors.


	20. Chapter 20

A/N Short chapter that just serves to progress the case along a bit. Rizzles-ness is only a few chapters away, I promise. I actually have the sudden jump headlong into Rizzles written, its getting to those three chapters that's the hard part.

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"The hell?" It's the only thing she can say as they walked into what had been Meacham's apartment. What had been one perfectly preserved crimescene was currently an absolute mess. She had obviously been killed here, the giant _reddish brown stain_ on the carpeting gave it away, even though the body had been dumped in front of the offices for the Globe. The rack of beautiful guitars that had stood to one side of the living room was gone.

She looked at the uniform that had been posted at the door to the loft, who seemed just as shocked as she was. "I got here at 8, haven't even peeked inside." She quirked an eyebrow. "Blood creeps me out." She looked over at Frost.

"You two'd make good friends." She endured the eye roll she got in return. "The officer who had the overnight, you know who he was?" The young man in front of her shook his head. Damn, since when did they start letting high schoolers on the force?

"His name was Tuckerton, though. Older guy. Older than you, but not as old as him-" The officer pointed at Korsak, who tried to look indignant at being called old.

"Thanks. Have you usually been the one to watch the scene?"

"I've had the 8-12 shift for the last week. Then Greevy usually comes on at noon. Usually the on the 4-8 is Boro-something Polish. Tuckerton said Borko had something come up with his kid, asked Tuckerton to cover." She nodded, told the officer to come find her if he remembered anything else, and looked back at the scene, where CSRU was just showing up to take the 'after' pictures. See what new evidence they could find.

Nothing much seemed to be missing, outside of the guitar rack, and some knick-knacks, and some of the items off the luthier's workbench. She sighed. She'd had a gut feeling that the missing USB drive would be hidden in the electronics for one of those guitars, and obviously, someone else did too. She sighed, running a hand through her hair, looking at her partner and Korsak. "Either of you know the unis that were out front? Tuckerton or -" She flipped through the log that CSRU was filling in. "Boro-kew-wi-"

"Borjokewicz?" Korsak corrected. "What, us Poles gotta stick together. He's a nice guy. Up and comer. Don't know any patrol named Tuckerton though." She was already calling Frankie who said the same thing. "You think Tuckerton was a plant? Phil isn't dirty. He'd never let something like this happen."

"Well, let's go find out what happened to him." They headed back to the station, finding that Philip Borjokewicz hadn't made it in last night. And had been expected for his shift five minutes prior, and still was nowhere to be found. She groaned in frustration, as they headed back out to the cruiser. There were some parts of the job she hated. The constant back and forth of chasing down leads, for one thing. Come back to the station, spend five minutes at her desk, go back out.

It was better than when she had first made detective. At least with the leaps and bounds of technology, there was a lot less having to return to the precinct for new leads. Addresses could be texted, GPS helped, they could get instant results from AFIS. It was sure as hell better than when she'd started in the academy and half the force still had pagers. But there was still the constant back and forth, she mused, as they headed for Borjokewicz's house. "Vince!" Mrs. Borjokewicz seemed surprised to see the sergeant on her doorstep. "What's this about?"

"Nadine, have you seen Phil?"

"What do you mean? I thought he'd slept at the station – he does that when he works overnights sometimes."

"Nadine – Phil was assigned to guard duty last night. The officer that was supposed to relieve him said that he wasn't there, and another man, Tuckerton, was in his place." She found herself wincing internally for the woman, doing her best to put on a strong and stoic front. This was everyone who was involved with a cop's worst nightmare.

"What? How is that possible? He left for work at midnight yesterday, same as usual – I watched him leave, I was up with Rhi – how could he have not made it in?"

"Did your husband ever mention knowing a man by the name of Tuckerton?" There was a shake of a head. "Have you noticed anything – odd in his routine lately?" She could feel Korsak's wary gaze, but ignored it.

"Odd? Like what?"

"Just – different. Spending money where he hadn't before, new friends, any-"

"Rizzoli, a word?" She looked up at Korsak, frowning as she let herself be led a few steps away. "Phil isn't dirty. I've known him since he was a kid, he's no more dirty than you or I."

"Yeah, well, he's either dirty or he's-" She looked up at where Mrs. Borjokewicz was busy fussing over a toddler, the little girl standing there staring at them with one thumb in a mouth. She found that she was suddenly unable to finish that sentence, not wanting to think about the only other reason a cop would skip out on a beat and the next one the next day. "I'd rather he was dirty." She finished instead. At least a dirty cop, while a disgrace, would still be able to come home to his family. Korsak gave a quiet nod, before handing over his card to the woman, urging her to call if she heard from Phil. She could see the utter dread in the woman's eyes, the stoic front that she knew was just for the child's sake. For once in her life, she was hoping that another member of the force _had_ done something shameful and illegal.


	21. Chapter 21

A/N Rizzles is coming. I promise. I just like the slow build up. Thank you all, again, for all the kind words, all the follows, all the favorites...hell, just the sheer amount of _hits_ I get chapter after chapter.

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She sighed, running a hand through her hair. It'd been two days, and they were no closer to figuring out what had happened to Borjokewicz. It was obvious Tuckerton was a plant – there was CCTV footage of two men in black masks loading the guitar rack into a KLW van in front of the apartment where Meacham had lived. But from there? They had nothing. It was _supposed_ to have been her day off, but even though she was currently sprawled across the couch, the kid propped up next to her getting better and better every day with the whole_ upright_ thing, she was still pouring over case notes, all the canvasing reports they had, the never-ending stream of information coming into the tip line now that it was all over the papers.

Yes, six o'clock on a Saturday evening had Jane Rizzoli still hard at work. There was a sharp, almost lyrical knock on the front door, and she found herself puzzled for a moment. Who on earth would be knocking on Maura's door? She hoped to god that her mother wasn't knitting _another_ damn baby blanket. She was pretty sure that the kid was risking suffocation at this point. She opened the door with a one-handed ease, balancing the kid against her with the other. "Lieutenant?" She asked, obviously confused as she opened the door, wondering why the hell Cavanaugh was currently standing on Maura's doorstep. "Is there a lead or something?" She asked, not liking the sudden twinkle in her bosses' eye.

Any questions she'd had died in her throat as she watched her mother and her best friend come over from the back door, Maura with the self-satisfied smirk that her friend usually had when she'd had a particularly successful shopping venture. She was pretty sure she'd found herself in a cartoon because there was no way that her eyes were still in her head and her jaw was not bouncing off the floor. She hadn't seen her mother dress up – well, ever really. But right now her mother was the dressiest she'd seen since her cousin Gina's wedding, and there was Cavanaugh on the doorstep – handing Angela flowers.

She really hated the two matching smirks thrown her way as she watched her mother get escorted to an Audi that she idly recognized as having seen before in the precinct parking garage, never realizing just who it belonged to. It was only once the car was out of the driveway that she realized just what had happened. "You!" She turned on Maura who was watching the scene with an entertained glimmer shining in hazel eyes. "You just aided and abetted – that."

"Your mother going on a date is hardly a felony."

"It is when it's with your boss! How would you like it if she was dating-" She paused, frowning as she realized that Maura _was_ the boss. The only one above the Chief Medical Examiner was the one that appointed said chief medical examiner, and the governor didn't really count as a boss in that sort of sense.

"I think it's sweet. Angela is quite enamored of him. And _you_ weren't about to go helping her find an outfit for tonight. You should have heard how excited she was to get to go to dinner with him again. Apparently their first date was quite successful." It was only the fact that she had the kid in one hand that was preventing her from jamming her fingers in her ears and going _la la la la la I can't hear you_.

"Traitor." She knew full well she was pouting as she followed Maura back through the foyer into the living room. At least one person was on her side, she mused, as she found Jo jumping on to the couch to snuggle next to her, seemingly knowing just what she needed. She watched as the dog gave a curious look towards the kid, touching a nose to a foot that dangled, both child and dog flinching at the contact. She found Maura giggling next to her over the innocent scene, and handed the kid off to her friend as she grabbed the manilla folder yet again.

So, three dead people. One missing beat cop. Either Borjokewicz had gone to ground, or something much worse had happened to the man. She flipped through the folder again, putting together what she had. So all three of the known dead had ties to Kenbar-Levitt-Wooten. Something with the company was fishy, but she had no clue what the hell it was. Something, though, most definitely, was up. What on earth was such a huge story that people had lost their lives over it?

She looked up to find her friend on the floor with the kid, gently waving the stuffed – whatever it was Rondo had given to them in front of the kid's face, watching as the kid reached out for it time and again, trying to wrap a hand around one floppy ear. It was something she'd never thought she'd see. Prim, proper, Maura Isles, sprawled face down on her own living room floor, playing with an almost 3 – month old kid. Whatever it was, it was a damn sight more refreshing than trying to find a connection where a connection was trying desperately to not be found.

The pieces were all there, she just had to put them together. There had to be something she was missing. Their financials checked out. They were just another run-of-the-mill city-owning holding company. Nothing too out of the ordinary. But something, something was definitely rotten in the state of Denmark. There was something that they were being purposely kept in the dark about. She found herself unable to stop from peeking over the top of the folder at the sight of Maura and the kid. She was glad Maura seemed to know all the right things for the kid, doing all these _ brain boosting_ things like sticking the kid in front of the mirror, watching him entranced by his own reflection.

There was already a stack of Little Golden Books accumulating in the guest room. She'd even fallen asleep to Maura's soothing recitation of _The Poky Little Puppy_ the other night, when her friend had the kid propped up between them on the bed, paging through the book as the kid took in the bright colors and patterns. Knowing Maura, the kid could have been born with Lydia's brainlessness and the ME would still manage to turn that brainlessness into someone that could get into MIT. Some of those brains would come in handy right now, but she refused to interrupt the moment that Maura and the kid seemed to be having.

She wondered where in the hell the kid had picked up the ability to hold his head up, looking around, braced on tiny palms Damn thing was getting big enough to actually _do_ things and it was sort of scary. The idea that the kid could now clumsily grasp _for_ things rather than just wrap a hand around anything placed in his own. She couldn't help the faint smile as two tiny hands clamped together, hanging on to the stuffed toy as Maura relinquished her grasp on it, letting the kid pull it in, sucking happily on one floppy ear. She could hear Maura cooing something softly at the kid, catching words here and there like _smart_ and _athletic_ and all sorts of other things mixed in with the baby talk.

If you had asked her four months ago if she could ever imagine Dr. Maura Isles, Cheif Medical Examiner of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts lying on a living room floor speaking fluent baby talk, she was sure she would have looked at you as though you'd grown a third, quite possibly even fourth head. But now, seeing it with her own eyes? It was something that looked so incredibly natural she wasn't quite sure how she'd ever _not_ seen it. Maura was a natural with the kid. There'd been glimpses of that maternal instinct when they'd had that case and her friend had volunteered as a Kangaroo mother, but now, now that Maura was around a kid all the time? It was there tenfold.

But right now, the proof was in front of her for her own eyes to see. It was a stark contrast, almost black and white to her case. Right now she had clear damn proof that Maura was like, the idyllic picture of _how to raise a seven week old_ and her case was like the perfect picture of _confusing as hell._ She was pretty sure the Sunday sudoku and crossword combined were easier to solve than this. Every possible lead they had fizzled out as soon as it hit KLW, with fancy coorporate lawyers blocking their path.

Every time they'd tried to question any of the employees, they found themselves met with the brick wall of lawyers. There was only so much the DAs could do with no evidence. And they found themselves in the impossible catch 22 of needing a warrant to get the evidence, and needing the evidence to get the warrant. There had to be some other way to find out what was going on there. There was something big going on, and she was going to get to the bottom of it. They had their theory of what happened. And it was a damn good theory. Davison stumbled upon something, and started digging. Confessed whatever it was to Lewis, went to the press with Meacham – whatever it was that Davison had discovered had to be _huge._ Colossal.

She frowned, as she flipped through the list of buildings that Davison had worked in. The last three buildings he'd been in. A cell phone manufacturer, a trucking company, the import-export company that shipped those cell phones in from whatever pacific rim hellhole they'd been made in. There was something there. There had to be. Three people did not just die for no reason. "Hey, Maur-" She was loathe to interrupt the moment playing out in front of her. "Meacham – you said she'd been pretty beat up before she got killed?" She handed the manilla folder over the coffee table wondering if it was normal to be passing case files across a living room in front of a kid.

"Yes, there was trauma to the ribcage that implies that she had taken quite a few high velocity impacts to the area roughly three to four weeks before she was killed."

"So was she beaten before or after Lewis and Davison were killed?"

"Before Lewis, but after Davison. There is also evidence of peri-mortem trauama. This time, however, there was a more distinct targeting of the cranial region. The prior incident, it seems most of the blows were focused on the thoracic region-"

"Last time they were trying to beat information out of her. This time, they didn't care, they knew she was going to die anyway." She sat back on the couch, trying to make the pieces fit. Davison was armed, but didn't make any attempt to fight back – just let himself be held in place and stabbed. "Did Lewis have any signs of defensive wounds, anything?" There was a shake of Maura's head.

"No, but unlike the other two victims the angle of entry suggests that whoever stabbed him was directly over top of him stabbing down into the chest."

"Like, kneeling over him?"

"It's a distinct possibility."

"Lewis is a big guy – did you run a tox panel?" There's an exasperated look on Maura's face. _Of course_ a tox panel would have been run. Maura was nothing if not thorough.

"The results aren't in here-" Maura was moving to get up, head to the laptop on the counter, and she reached out to catch her friend's wrist before it could get there.

"Leave it for now, it'll still be there after dinner. Thai or pizza?" There was another exasperated glance thrown at her. "What? You do realize that right now my mother is on a date with my boss, I've got one hell of a case that you cant turn on the television without hearing about, no leads – do you really expect me to want to cook?" She scowled. "How can he even do this now? Go on a date while we have all _this_ to deal with?"

"If he _was_ at work right now, what would he be doing to help with your case?" The scowl deepend as she realized that Maura had a point. The lieutenant didn't really _do_ much in terms of the cop work. He supervised, he signed off, he made sure that everything got done, and got done correctly. "I'll cook."

"Can it at least be something fattening and terrible for you?" She called over her shoulder.

"No."


	22. Chapter 22

She stood in the guest room, looking around. Well, not so much guest room anymore. It was very rapidly transforming into something less designed for guests and more designed for the kid. Part of her wanted to buck the idea, but she knew that if they were going to be saddled with this kid for at least another eight months, it needed a room of its own. Especially if Tommy wound up stuck serving the higher end of the sentence.

She really didn't like that thought. It was one thing, when the kid was still this small. It wasn't as though the kid knew that the people raising it weren't his parents. Right now, the kid was just happy if it's basic needs were met. That was easy enough. But it was a whole other story if the kid wound up old enough to realize that he didn't have parents, he had nannies. He had a family – but an incredibly fucked up one. That he had his aunt and his aunt's best friend, his aunt's best friend's neighbor, and his grandmother taking care of him, and not actual, proper parents.

She scowled at the assembly instructions in front of her, hating the fact that it seemed every single furniture manufacturer decided that Ikea was a great role model and no actual text should ever have to be included. The Rizzoli family crib had long since been written off as a loss, having not weathered the thirty plus years since it had last been used as well as she thought it would have. But this was almost soothing in an odd sort of way. It was something to focus on that wasn't the case. Not focus on the fact that Lewis had likely wound up being force fed three times his normal prescription of oxy-whatever it was that he was taking for narcolepsy, leaving him helpless against his attackers. Borjokewicz still hadn't turned up, and when she and Korsak had gone to visit the family again, they found their worst nightmare had come true.

The house was empty, stripped bare of important possessions. It would have been easy enough to miss, if you weren't looking for it. But the closets were markedly sparse, the photo albums were gone, anything important had disappeared. The family was gone, by choice. Three dead bodies. One dirty cop. She looked up to see Maura sitting on the edge of the guest bed looking around at the room. "So you _did_ find that." She commented, pointing at the book in Maura's hands, smirk staying in place even when Maura's eyes narrowed. She was _not_ going to admit that she'd found _Soothing Paint Choices for the Home_ under a stack of junk mail on her long ignored bookcase three weeks after the book had sparked the fight that led to the longest she had ever gone without talking to her best friend. It'd taken the help of her mother for her to sneak in and make it look like it had been sitting on the bookshelf all along, next to her _Guns of the World _digest. "And you don't have to re-paint for the kid."

"I did mean it when I said I had planned on redoing this room anyway." She frowned as she attempted to figure out what exactly part A even _was_ much less how to snap it to the side rails like the directions were telling her to do. "What do you think of this?" There was a paint swatch shoved in front of her face, and she frowned."It's a little – green." Maura laughed, nixing the color entirely, shifting through a few other colors. "What color was your room growing up?"

"Yellow. I think. I had a lot of posters up, I don't think you could actually _see_ the wall. I do remember I came home from school one day to find Ma had it painted hot pink. I slept on the couch until she changed it. How about yours?"

"Cappuccino. With white furniture." Maura was paging through the book, glancing a the collection of swatches that had been assembled, and she tried to focus back on how to put the damn contraption that the kid would be calling a bed here soon enough together. The crib itself would match with almost anything, done in antique alder with a natural stain, the pale wood would go with pretty much anything they decided to match with it. She grinned as she finally figured out what exactly part E was and where it fit, screwing it in place and double checking that it did allow the high sides to move up and down as they were intended to.

"Who's the boss of this?" She was gloating slightly, feeling entirely too proud of being able to assemble a piece of furniture. She looked over at Maura who had that adorable little head tilt going, considering a handful of different shades blue. "What about that one?" She questioned, pointing at some shade of aquamarine that the paint company had labeled _Shallow Pond._ It was bright, cheerful, and it sure as hell beat the shades of lilac or whatever that Maura had been glancing at. If nothing else, she was going to spare the kid the indignity of a purple room. There was a moment where Maura paused, pursing her lips as though to say something against it, before grinning broadly as the possibilities were considered.

"You really like it?" She nodded. "Great I'll call -"

"You don't have to call someone to paint. Frankie, Frost 'n me can get it." Maura stared at her.

"Do you really feel like painting? While I admire your desire to do everything yourself, I am quite confident in saying that you don't really want to spend a whole weekend with your brother and Barry painting."

"But it would be a painting party!" It was almost a token protest. Almost. Part of her felt weird about her friend's ability to simply call someone and have things that she was used to having to do on her own just due to it being an unnecessary expense done for her. But Maura had a point. She really had zero interest at all in having to actually paint the place, but she still felt weird about it. Maura had done so much for her and her family – she couldn't help but feel guilty that she did seemingly nothing for Maura in return. Yet Maura never seemed to mind. Any thoughts on the matter were interrupted by a cold, wet nose digging into her calf. She glanced down at the terrier that was looking up at her expectantly. "You wanna go out girl? Huh?" She dropped to one knee, ruffling the dog's fur.

"Actually, it's a beautiful day out, why not go to the park? All of us?" She paused, looking around the room. She'd gotten the one thing she had wanted to accomplished taken care of, why not? Besides, at the word _park_ Jo had started running laps around Maura, eager to go somewhere that little legs could take her running.

"Yeah, sure, why not? Enjoy this while it lasts. Next thing you know we'll be up to our neck in snow." It was funny, how much her view on winter had changed with every passing year. She'd loved Boston winters as a child, the magical beauty of the snow, the looking forward to of snow days, the ability to go sledding and make snow men and enjoy the winter. Somewhere, though, winter had come to be an annoyance. Ice to break a neck on. The snow she saw every day turned grey and black with the pollution of the city. No, if it was still nice out now, halfway through October, she was going to enjoy it while it lasted.

She watched Maura get the kid ready, strapping him into the stroller. "You know, now that he has the ability to hold his head upright for a prolonged period of time, it's safe to put him in a jogging stroller." She rolled her eyes behind Maura's back, simply holding out the light fall-weight jacket for Maura to slip into, her own already donned.

"Really? You miss the morning run?"

"Well, yes." She fought of the urge to groan. "Besides, regular exercise might work to relieve some of the tension you've had over the last few weeks."

"You think I'm tense?"

"It is impossible not to notice the fact that you haven't slept for more than three hours straight since your third victim." She grinned sheepishly.

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you." Maura shrugged slightly as they headed out. "Why didn't you say anything?" She asked, having sincerely thought that her nocturnal tossing and turning had gone unnoticed.

"I usually fall asleep again fairly quickly. besides, I'm not complaining about getting out of the late night feeding." She grinned, bumping her shoulder into her friend as they walked the common. She was amazed at just how – normal this felt.

Somewhere over the last few months, _normal_ for her had come to include the kid. Somewhere, her daily routine had shifted to include an infant, and she wasn't quite sure how she felt about that. It shouldn't feel normal to be walking around Boston Common with a stroller, her dog, and her best friend. They were supposed to be running this at the ass crack of dawn, getting blood flowing for a long day of catching the bad guys. They weren't supposed to have a diaper bag. Louis Vitton wasn't supposed to _make_ diaper bags. They weren't supposed to have a case that might as well have been shoved in one of the freezers in the morgue, it was cooling so rapidly.

She wondered if maybe they'd have caught a break if she hadn't had to divide her attention, and blinked when she realized that she didn't really want to consider that option. Having the kid in her life had become so normal that trying to picture the last few months without the kid seemed abnormal. When the hell had that happened? _Why_ the hell had that happened? She frowned, hating the fact that short of Lydia intervening, it would continue to be normal for at least another three quarters of a year.

She found herself surreptitiously looking at the other people there around them with strollers, comparing and contrasting. They obviously weren't doing too bad of a job with the kid. It certainly had better fashion sense than the kid they just passed by. Poor girl had been shoved into a pink, frilly princess outfit that was so poofy it billowed over the edges of the stroller. She really hoped that it was a dry run of baby's first Halloween costume. She blinked, realizing an unintended benefit of having the kid around. Just because _she_ was too old to enjoy one of Halloween's great pleasures, didn't mean that she had to deprive the kid of the experience, right? "You're plotting something." Was it that obvious?

"Just realizing that this kid is a great excuse to not have to buy candy ever for the rest of the year." At Maura's raised eyebrow, her own went up as well. "You know, trick or treating?"

"Isn't he a little young for that?" Her grin brightened. "You're incorrigible."

"What? There's that or the party at the precinct." It was odd, the idea of going to the Robber and getting blind stinking drunk didn't hold the same appeal it had last year. She frowned, at the realization. Somewhere over the last few months she'd become a responsible adult. She really didn't like the sound of that. "I bet your neighborhood gives out really good candy too. Like Ghirardelli and stuff."

"I've always just put out a bowl of assorted sweets."

"Oh god, you were _that_ house, weren't you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know, the one that puts out a bowl of candy with a nice note that says _please leave some for others_ and it never fails that the first kid that comes along without their parents dumps the whole thing in their pillowcase."

"Oh."

"Yeah. You never passed those houses and hated the fact that you got there two houses too late?"

"Well I've never really-" She gaped. Openly gaped.

"You never went trick or treating? Never?"

"My father's birthday is the 30th, he liked to spend it at the cabin in Maine. And then there was school, and America really is the only country that celebrates the holiday in such a fashion." She frowned, wondering how, exactly, Maura's parents could have been so self-absorbed so as to deprive her friend from one of the greatest joys of childhood, never stopping to consider what they were causing Maura to miss out on when they enjoyed their own hoity-toity pleasures.

"Well, we're going to have to fix that then. C'mon there's that great place that's like, four blocks from here on the other side of the common that has like, everything Halloween."

"Did _you_ just suggest a shopping trip?"

"It's Halloween, this is different. This isn't like, oh, let's expand the wardrobe, it's halloween, it's costumes, and haunted houses and stuff." She was all but bouncing at the idea. She'd missed trick or treating, having used the excuse of making sure that Tommy didn't do more tricking than treating to continue the practice all the way into high school. So, she supposed, this fucked up attempt at playing house did have one upside.

Her mood lessened slightly as they passed an old lady that seemed to have _bitter and angry_ etched into every line of a deeply wrinkled face. She glared back at the way the woman was glaring at them, fighting the childish urge to stick her tongue out. They _had _just been talking about trick or treating after all. She caught a muttered something, and turned, ignoring the warning hand placed on her arm.

"What was that?" She questioned, the inner cop in her coming out.

"I said it's disgusting, what you're doing. The two of you, condemning that poor child to hell-" She didn't know why it made her so irrationally angry, but it did. She had grown quite accustomed to deflecting away the assumptions that had been made about them whenever they took the kid out, and most of the time it was entertaining. But most of the time the assumptions were good natured and honest. This – this was just hate for hate's sake.

"Ok, first of all, are you so wrapped up in your hatred that you can't believe a woman and her friend can't take out the kid I'm babysitting, without assuming we're a couple? Second of all, what the fuck do you care if a kid is being raised by two dads, two moms, or Jesus Christ himself? Doesn't affect you, unless you're just jealous that a kid could possibly have more love in just a few months than you've ever had in your whole life?" The woman blanched visibly, and she turned smugly on her heel, continuing on with Maura.

"What was that about?"

"I don't care what people think about us, but I'll be damned if I let some bitter old hag insult me." She looked over at Maura who had that same odd expression that she'd been seeing quite a lot recently. "So, costume ideas?" She asked, leading the way to the Halloween store.


	23. Chapter 23

A/N apologies for taking so long to get this out. I kinda got distracted by all the fluffy that's happening in later chapters. Thank you all, again, so much for the support!

* * *

Trick or treating wound up forgotten about when they found themselves called in on the morning of the thirty-first for a body found thrown through the front window of a little shop branded only as _The Cell Phone Shack._ "Two stab wounds to the chest, lividity suggests time of death roughly between ten and midnight last night, he wasn't killed here, appears that he was killed, and spent at least an hour on his side before coming to rest here." She frowned as she searched through the small building. The back room had been completely trashed, with plenty of signs of struggle. She found herself pacing the route between the back room and the body, before kneeling down and looking at one of the bruises on an arm.

"Hey, Maur – that odd pattern with the bruising – think it matches up to that?" She pointed at the shelving rack that was half-toppled over, like someone had been thrown into it.

"It's possible." She gestured at one of the techs, who got the hint to snap a picture of said shelving unit. "There are defensive wounds that indicate that he was struggling to escape his captors. Hand shaped contusions on the upper arm-"

"So this guy put up a fight. Any skin or blood underneath the nails?"

"It appears his hands were soaked in something-there are minor chemical burns that indicate that it was after death -"

"Bleach."

"I won't know until I run tests to analyze the results-"

"There's not going to be any usable DNA. These guys are smart. They know what they're doing. But why him? Who is he, anyway?" She was surprised to find Cooper coming up.

"I know this guy. Ryan Cafferty. Popped him twice for possession. Word on the street right before I moved to homicide was that he was planning something big." She pursed her lips, taking in the scene.

"You hear anything since then?"

"I can go check with my old partner – Witchart probably knows more. Last I heard he was setting up to move some major product. He wasn't exactly discrete about it either. We thought he was dumb enough to go after a gangbanger's stash house."

"This looks like there's a lot more to it than some gangbanger. She got up from where she was kneeling next to the body, letting Maura handle the rest of the preliminaries, surveying the completely destroyed back room. She eyed the shelves of phones that had been brought in to be refurbished before being resold, eyes falling on the ones currently hooked up to the three laptops on a desk. "Frost, you think you could see if there's anything interesting on any of this."

"Jane, there's at least a hundred cell phones in here."

"Well, let's start with the ones that are currently plugged in. Actually, that's genius. Borrow the phones from people that bring them in for a new screen or whatever to set up deals – it's damn near untraceable." There was a grudging respect there for their vic. After all, it was brilliant. Damned infuriating, but brilliant. She looked around at the rest of the wreckage, her eyes falling on the giant stack of boxes in the corner, all bearing the same logo. "Do you see that?"

"Yeah, KLW Communications. They're a major manufacturer of cell phone parts."

"Yeah, and another damn tie back to these assholes. There's something big here." She looked at the stacks of boxes, opening the first one she found. Each box was full of smaller boxes, each roughly the size of a small cinder block and her brow furrowed. "If Cafferty was setting up a big deal, how do you think he was going to transport the drugs?" She looked at the boxes. "He's a cell phone repair man. These boxes are perfect for it, look at this-" She held up a box labled with a whole bunch of letters and numbers, "Perfect size for a brick of coke. It wouldn't look out of place for him to have a box like this with him."

"You think the other three vics got wind of it?" She looked at Korsak, shrugging.

"But why would they-" She paused, looking at the boxes.

"Hey, Riley, when did Cafferty start talking a big game?"

"About three-four months ago. Told you, _right_ before I transferred in here."

"We need the customs manifests for KLW Communcations. From right before Cafferty started talking."

"What are you thinking, Rizzoli?"

"I'm thinking that I know why four people wound up dead." She sighed, stretching as they headed back to the precinct. It was some hours and a massive stack of customs manifests later that she realized just how late it had gotten. When the hell had five o'clock creeped up on them? She got up, heading downstairs, finding Maura engaged in a report, hunched intently over the office desk. "Hey."

"Hey yourself. I have the preliminary autopsy results. The damage to the cardiac tissue, including dialated cardiomyopathy and arterial sclerosis implies that your most recent victim had a diet high in red meats and fatty foods, as well as a history of long term cocaine abuse. The toxicology results confirm that he had a rather elevated level of cocaine in his system at time of death."

"That might explain why he fought back so hard. Coked out of his mind, he didn't want to stand down, so he fought. Hell hath no fury like a man on cocaine." She winced at the thought, something that didn't go entirely unnoticed, if the questioning glance shot her way was anything to go by. "When I was still in the drug unit, got two cracked ribs thanks to a cokehead. Tackled him in the middle of a buy bust, he tried to fight his way free. Didn't win, but he damn sure tried." She frowned, remembering the pain all too well.

"Are you done for the day? What's left of the report can wait until tomorrow-" She shook her head sadly.

"I still have three months of customs manifests to go through. I think KLW isn't as innocent as they think they are."

"You think they are involved?"

"I'm thinking KLW might be importing more than just cell phones. It makes sense. Cafferty must have gotten his hand on some of their product." She frowned, not liking the fact that she still had hours of paperwork left. On the best holiday of the year. You shouldn't put those costumes to waste though. Go, have a good time with the kid. I'll be home later."

"I do think Christopher is too young to properly enjoy the trick or treating aspect, and certainly too young for all the sweets involved, but I was thinking I won't be _that_ house again." she laughed at the memory of the conversation. There was a hint of a smile that didn't quite reach hazel eyes shot her way and part of her wanted to feel guilty. "Who the hell thinks Halloween is a great night to kill someone? I mean, really, does anyone have any common courtesy anymore?" There was a pause where they chuckled slightly, before she found herself nervously meeting hazel eyes again. "I really wish-"

"Go back to the manifests. Someone needs to stop these guys."

"But it's-"

"Your job comes first." She grinned, wrapping Maura in a brief hug for just _understanding_ before heading back upstairs. Maura was right, the kid was too young to know what it was missing out on, and they had a now quadruple homicide that was quickly spiraling into so much more.

"I'll be home as soon as possible. Promise. Maybe there'll still be a few houses left by the time I get back." She grinned a the thought of lindor truffles instead of another generic roll of smarties. "Just make sure the porch light's on. Invitation to trick-or-treaters everywhere." She couldn't help but grin back at the one flashed in her direction. "I'll be home as soon as I can, but these customs manifests are like, intentionally vague." Her grin fell at the thought, before she looked up at Maura again. "I'll try to make it back before everyone closes up shop for the night." There was a sad smile as she waved goodbye, heading back up to the homicide bullpen, a newfound resolve to break this case burning in her.

This wasn't just because she hated frustrating cases. This wasn't because she hated getting a break only to have it be blocked by a brick wall. This wasn't just because she hated cases that kept getting worse instead of better. This new resolve was because now this shit had become personal. These bastards had gotten in the way of what she had been planning on being a perfectly entertaining evening ending with a pillowcase full of sweets and the ability to pawn all the crappy candy off on Frost and Korsak. These bastards had just bitten off more than they could chew. One did _not_ interrupt what should have been her first chance at trick or treating in over two decades and expect to just get off easy. These bastards were most certainly going to get what they deserved.


	24. Chapter 24

A/N - this is another one of those "sticking point" chapters. Over the last two months or so that I've been working on this fic, this has been one of the first chapters done. And it's been rewritten, and rewritten and rewritten multiple times. The next three chapters are already mostly written, and just being cleaned up, and I promise, this is the catalyst to it devolving into full on Rizzles fluff (outside of the case stuff. That's not so fluffy)

* * *

She ran her hands tiredly over her face as she watched Frankie yell something about pass interference at Maura's television, sighing and glancing between the case notes and the game. The only reason she even knew what day of the week it was right now was because the Pats were playing, and they were the only NFL game on at the moment, which meant it had to be a Thursday. "Frankie, who cares if that was blatant pass interference? It's the Bucs, the refs could pull a whole bunch of that Greenbay-Seattle shit and they'd still stand no chance. Tampa Bay could lose to our high school team."

She shifted where the kid was balanced on her lap, needing surprisingly little support to stand upright on top of her. She'd heard all sorts of things about little legs being able to bear weight as early as four months, but she hadn't expected to _feel_ it as she held the kid squarely around the middle, bouncing one knee ever so gently. "Language." She rolled her eyes, sticking out her tongue at Maura, who was sprawled in one of the arm chairs, leaving the couch to her and her brother.

"What d'ya say, kiddo? Going to do better at running back than your Uncle Frankie here? He set a school record – most negative yards by a running back in a single season."

"That's because I was a DE who got thrown in running back for three plays when Kyle Heffner broke his leg!"

"Still, I had more rushing yards than you did!"

"Hate to break it to you sis, but they don't actually count the powderpuff game." She merely gave her brother a frustrated glance.

"Still did better in four powderpuff games than the two of you did in four combined seasons. I kinda felt bad for Tommy out there. He was hopeless at football."

"He was hopeless at everything. If it wasn't for us, he wouldn't have been able to find his ass with a map and a flashlight. It's a good thing you're taking on this whole kid thing, Janie. Could you imagine Tommy doing this?"

"Yeah, because someone who gets to eat bologna sandwiches and government cheese is just such wonderful fatherhood material."

"Don't you go shaming bologna sandwiches." She grinned at her brother.

"Is it wrong that I almost liked it when Pop went a few weeks with no work cause it meant Ma would give us the option of like, spaghetti, breakfast for dinner, hot dogs, and bologna sandwiches?" Frankie looked at her, and then burst out laughing.

"Those were the best weeks!" She looked up from where she was rolling on the couch with her brother, laughter having her doubled over, to see Maura looking at them with an interested, yet confused, expression.

"You've never even eaten bologna, have you?" She asked the woman, reaching for the kid, bouncing him slightly on her knee.

"You know I don't like processed meat products."

"Well if we still have this kid by the time he's old enough to eat real food, he's going to grow up learning the amazingness of fried bologna. Screw it, even if we _don't _still have this kid, he's still going to grow up eating the Rizzoli family fried bologna recipe. How to feed five people on three dollars worth of food and make it taste fucking amazing." She could see something in Maura change slightly and she quirked an eyebrow, getting a nearly imperceptible shake of the head in return. Something bothered Maura, and she didn't know what it was.

"Remember the look on Ma's face when she came home with a box of real Fruit Loops and Tommy told her he didn't like them as much as the regular ones?" She kept laughing at Frankie's recollection.

"Or the time you took the fifty cents she gave you to go play Galaga at the diner and we used to to have a shoping cart battle in the Aldi parking lot?"

"God, she nearly killed us. And they only gave us one of our quarters back! We returned both carts!"

"I mean, I absolutely destroyed yours, but you're right, it did make it back." She looked down at the kid she was holding up by the armpits, feeling the soft feet digging into her thigh as she bounced her knee gently. "What do you think about that, kiddo?" She asked at the baby in front of her. "Just don't think of gnocchis three days in a row as a gift. Don't need another rolly polly Rizzoli running around." She took her brother up on the wordless offer, passing the kid over to Frankie, surprised at how gentle he was.

"She says she'll make you bologna sandwiches. Don't eat 'em. Let Uncle Frankie make 'em, it's the only thing I can cook, but I do it damn well." She grinned, before turning back to Maura, trying to read the expression on her friends face. There was something..._uncomfortable_ there, and she quirked her eyebrow again. _What?_She mouthed, not wanting to interrupt a moment of precious bonding time between the kid and the most positive male role model it had in its life.

There was another shake of the head, this time more noticeable than the last one. Maura was staring at some point in the distance, not at her, not at Frankie, not at the kid, and she wondered just what that great brain was thinking about. There was an interminable period where her brother bounced the kid the same as she had been doing, the Pats scored _another_ TD against the Bucs, and a not-quite-comfortable silence descended upon them before Frankie's radio clicked to life. "Well, duty calls, sis." He said, standing. "See you later, little man." He said, before handing the kid back to her. She could see the exhausted look on the kid's face, and once Frankie had left, she turned, heading up the stairs and laying the kid down in the antique alder crib, suddenly feeling something that she didn't like.

It wasn't anger, not quite. But it wasn't a happy feeling. She looked around the guest room, which had been transformed into a nursery, at the fifteen hundred dollar crib, the many thousands of dollars worth of new furniture that was spread throughout the room, all much more baby friendly than the accouterments she was used to seeing in there. This kid, so long as it was sharing residence with Maura would want for nothing. She'd caught her friend looking up fancy-pants preschools, the sort that had waitlists long enough for admission that she was pretty sure this kid would have had to be listed the second _she_ had popped out of the womb. The sort where yearly tuition was more than her salary.

But what would happen when the kid went back to his rightful owners? It seemed almost cruel, to do this, even though she knew logically that the kid was too young to have any idea of just how pampered it was. But still, what happened when Tommy got out? What happened if Lydia came back? They weren't this kid's parents. They weren't even this kid's legal guardians. The sudden enormity of that hit her like a ton of bricks. This kid had made it over four months, _four fucking months_ and then some without existing, according to the government. There was no birth certificate on file, nothing notating that at, the present, _they_ were its caretakers.

Something really had to be done about that. It was one thing during the first few weeks, when they didn't quite know what was going on with this kid, to put off dealing with the legalities of things. But right now, it was looking like they were going to be raising this kid for at least another eight months, and given children's propensity for doing stupid – ok, so not so much stupid, but very much naïve – things, then they definitely needed something to prove that they had every right to be in the ER for the inevitable one year old shambling into the corner of the coffee table, or Frankie's clumsy ass whacking a perfect little leg into a door.

She frowned, returning back down the stairs to find Maura still staring at that same point in space. "Everything all right?" She questioned, watching as hazel eyes snapped to hers, before refixing on some something far away. "Maura, what's wrong?"

"It's just listening to you and Frankie talk about your childhoods-I'm reminded of everything I never had." She found herself instantly on edge, even though she knew, logically there was no reason to be. But she'd just spent the last hour or so talking about the fact that her childhood had been far from the sort of things that you read about in storybooks and her friend, who'd grown up with the fairytale princess life, was saying such things had the hair on the back of her neck standing up.

"Yes, because eating nothing but gnocchis and baloney for a week because that's all you can afford is something _everybody_ wants to go through." This kid, he was never going to have to go through that so long as Maura was involved.

"But even despite all that you had so many wonderful experiences-"

"They were only wonderful cause we were too young to realize _why_ we spent the weeks between when Pop had work eating nothing but baloney, tuna and spaghetti. I mean, it wasn't like we were starving kids in Africa poor, but we had pride, too. Once I was old enough to realize that it wasn't cause Ma wanted to spoil us, but because she was doing the exact opposite, well, no one likes realizing that they're, y'know-not exactly rolling in dough."

"You still made the most of it. Had a normal childhood."

"Yeah, well, what choice did we have? I mean, Pop really did try to do right by us, but when business is bad, business is bad."

"Jane-" She tensed, the same uncomfortable feeling she'd had settling over her again. This kid was a Rizzoli, what right did it have growing up in luxury and splendor? What right did it have to lay in a crib that cost more than one of her paychecks? This kid, he was supposed to grow up the same way she had. Blue-collar, painfully middle class, making the most of the bad times and enjoying the good. He wasn't supposed to grow up drinking $10/gallon frou-frou milk and dressed entirely in designer clothes.

"Don't you dare pity me."

"I don't." Part of her really wanted to believe that. But part of her also was running on pure irrationality. How was this kid ever going to want to go back to what it came from, when what it came from had no comparison to all of this? Even her own mother had grown used to the opulence and splendor. There was definitely no way that she could tear away a young life who had come to view this as normal and thrust it into the world of terrible processed food and being forced to eat PB&J for lunch every day. There was no way that someone like Maura could possibly want someone out of her world for any reason other than pity.

"You sure look like it right now."

"I would never pity you. I envy what you have."

"Yeah, you envy growing up with parents that spent everything they had so that you could go to catholic school? You envy getting to go to summer camp run by the school district when you got to go to sleepaway camp? You envy getting stuck in every single activity through the Y? Seriously, if it wasn't for the Y, I don't think I'd have _had_ a childhood. Dance lessons, sports, swimming-you got to lean all those things from real instructors, and not just some guys who had done their lessons at the Y too. You got to do all the things that I could only dream of as a kid, and you're jealous of that? You got to go to college, you have houses in different countries, and you're jealous of having to work three summers in a row just to be able to afford to go on the senior class trip?" She wasn't even quite sure of what had her so far on the defensive, but there was something distinctly unsettled resting upon her.

"I'm jealous of the fact that all that is _normal._ I have money, yes, but what did that get me? Getting called Queen of the Dead behind my back? Knowing that I stand out – in a bad way – in any sort of social gathering where there's anything more complex than small talk and basic social etiquette? You got to grow up with a family that loves you, was involved with you. Your parents put you in all those activities because they wanted you to have those experiences, not because those activities occupied the hours between the end of the school day and the time I went to bed. Occupied my weekends." She frowned. "You got to go to camp because you wanted to, not because it meant another eight weeks of the year where your parents would have an excuse not to see you."

"This kid – what's going to happen if Tommy gets out and decides he's man enough to take on parenting. What's going to happen if Lydia wants him back? It's not fair to him if he goes from _this-_" She gestured at the house around her "Back to my world." In the years that they had been friends, the fact that Maura had a checking account with seven digits in it had never bothered her before. But this was different. This wasn't just feeling out of place at some fancy gallery opening, this was proposing to raise one of her family members in that same wealth and splendor. How could this kid be a Rizzoli like that? How could this kid possibly ever _want_ to grow up in her world, when it had the option of Maura's?

"So we don't let him." She blinked at the quiet conviction in Maura's voice.

"What?"

"We have spent almost five months raising Christopher. Look at him when other people hold him. He hears _our_ voices and he turns to us. He views us as his caregivers, his _mothers._" She couldn't help but flinch at the word.

"What, you're saying that just cause he followed us home you wanna keep him?"

"He's not a pet, Jane. Tell me that you don't feel the same way. I've seen you, when you don't think anyone is looking, the way you are with him. You love him just as much as I do." She shook her head.

"I love him, because he's family. Someone has to raise this kid, yeah, but I've spent the last eighteen weeks with the thought that at the end of this I'd get to spend time with this kid as something that wasn't _mine. _I never asked for any of this, I've put up with it, because what other choice do I have? But eventually, this kid is going to have to go to his actual parents."

"Who? Do you think Tommy's going to get out of jail and want to take him in? Do you think Lydia is going to come back and decide to reclaim him? She left him on our doorstep! I am not going to simply stand aside if someone who is entirely unfit to raise this child decides that they want back into a life they willingly cast aside." Her mind was reeling with the sudden vehemence in Maura's words. There was something there that went beyond even anger. There were no raised voices, no angry tones, but instead a quiet, eerie stillness in the way that Maura spoke. It was cold, and deadly serious. She knew that her best friend and Paddy Doyle couldn't have been more different if they tried, but right at that moment, hearing the icy way Maura spoke of refusing to relinquish her grip on this kid, she wondered just how much was nature versus nurture. Because right now, she was fairly sure that Maura would kill someone without a second thought if they tried to take the kid away.

But they couldn't just keep the kid. They were a great stopgap, but eventually something had to happen. The other shoe had to eventually drop, and the fact that Maura wanted to keep it suspended in midair indefinitely? The idea of actually _raising_ the kid and not just being an extended babysitter? The idea of teaching it the ins and outs of life? That was downright terrifying. It was one thing to take care of an infant, who had no greater desire than to be held, changed, and fed. It was another thing entirely when this infant turned into a small person, because with personhood came personality. Came actually being able to fuck this kid up emotionally.

And she couldn't do that. She could be a babysitter, but she was in no way, shape, or form a _mother._ "Fine? You want to raise this kid so badly, be my guest. I was in this because this kid is family, but if you're not willing to give him back to the _right_ family members than you can keep him." She was on her feet, being driven by the icy tendril of fear at the idea of not being able to get rid of this kid before it started to be really, actively, aware of the world.

"Where are you going?" She was already halfway out the door, case files in hand.

"Back to the apartment." The sound of Maura's front door slamming shut hung heavily in her ears long after she had gotten into her car and pulled away.


	25. Chapter 25

A/N – just remember people. I'm evil. I'm not downright cruel. And this does turn fluffy. Remember that. Also, I'm either terribly predictable, or some of you are terribly psychic, since some of the amazing reviews, that I'd like to thank y'all so very, very, much for have predicted like, actual lines that I've had written for ages. (these next few chapters were actually written before chapter 1 was.) And hopefully this does a bit to restore Jane a little bit. She's not heartless. Honest.

* * *

When she trudged into the bullpen the next morning, she found three sets of sympathetic eyes on her. "What?" She asked, wondering what had the rest of the team looking at her so – consolingly.

"The kid sick? You look like you haven't slept, the Doc called out-" Maura had taken the day, after the fight they'd had? It surprised her, slightly, but she shrugged it off. Besides, it wasn't really a _fight._ They hadn't actually argued. Not really. This wasn't like the last time they'd fought, sarcastic comments and insults being thrown back and forth. This had been quiet. Civil, even. This was her making a decision, this was her drawing her line, that's all it had been.

"Something like that." She muttered, not wanting to get into the details of what had happened right at that moment.

"Yeah, and you look like you've been raiding new line of the Korsak collection. Kid really must be sick if Maura let you out of the house like that." She frowned, looking down at the houndstooth blazer and not quite matching grey slacks, paired with a blue shirt. There wasn't much else left in her closet. Somewhere along the way it seemed most of her wardrobe had migrated to Maura's. Add to that the fact that she really _hadn't_ slept, outside of the odd fitful five minutes, and she was sure she looked like as shitty as she felt. For one thing, after spending the last five months in the Most Comfortable Bed in the World, her own felt like she was sleeping on plywood propped up on milkcrates. For another, she'd found herself forced to admit to herself what she was really afraid of and really mad about.

It'd taken all of an hour after she'd gotten home for her to realize that her problems with this kid had nothing to do with Maura's money. The fact that her best friend was a zillionaie was just a symptom. The fact was that Maura was so far out of her league she looked like the tee-ball team that still managed to give the opposing pitcher a perfect game trying to top the Sox. They just weren't on the same plane of existence. It was one thing, now, to be sharing diaper duty, planning nanny, but what Maura had suggested? Actually _keeping_ the kid? The very idea of it rocked her to her 'd spent the better part of the night staring at customs manifests, numbers and shipment dates all blurring together in her mind, as she found herself going back over and over again to the real problem. The problem wasn't that this kid was getting everything she'd never had in life. No, the problem was she didn't know the first thing about how to actually _raise_ this kid. Sure, raising it in wealth and luxury niggled at her as well, but after hours of thinking about it, she'd finally hit upon the _why_ this was bugging her now.

Maura was the one with the money, that could provide the kid with an ideal childhood. Maura was the one with the gorgeous house that had a spare bedroom that had quickly been converted into a nursery, and a massive basement that the ME had been talking about actually getting finished for years. Maura was the one that was actually _good_ with the kid, playing with him, reading to him, taking time with him, the one that actually knew what the hell those milestone things that she saw books about whenever she'd found herself in the baby section of wal-mart stocking up on diapers and baby shampoo. Maura was the one that was cut out for all this _motherhood_ crap.

This kid wasn't going to grow up a Rizzoli, it was going to grow up an Isles. Sure, the kid was related to her genetically, but Maura was proof that just because of whatever chromosomes were floating around in someone, what mattered was how they were raised. And Maura was suggesting raise the kid in the most un-Rizzoli like fashion possible. And she was all right with that. What she wasn't all right with was the fact that this kid wouldn't want anything to do with being a Rizzoli when it had the option of being an Isles. What use would this kid have for her in his life, when she was going to be complete crap at raising it? She was completely expendable.

She _couldn't_ keep this kid. Sure, she may have joked with Frankie about being a better choice than Tommy, but was she really? She was reckless, she did stupid, idiotic things because she let her emotions get the better of her. Hell, she had just stormed out last night for no other reason than she was -

She paused at the thought.

She was something that she never liked admitting to. She was afraid. Afraid that the kid would hate her. Afraid that she'd do something irrational, and scar this kid for life because she was too damn impulsive. Afraid that she'd do something to force both him and Maura out of her life completely. This kid, he'd come in, and changed the dynamic between her and her best friend so much, that it scared her. They'd gone from best friends, to – she didn't even know what. She'd had a hard time imagining what it would be like without Maura in her life before the kid – hell, she'd _killed_ before to protect her friend, and the weeks that they'd spent fighting after the Doyle incident had been utter hell. But now, the idea of losing Maura made her physically ill.

She hadn't thought anything of it when even after the kid had graduated from bassinet to crib, from master bedroom to nursery, that she stayed sleeping in the same bed she had been. It was, after all, comfortable as hell, and why would she move to the now twin-sized guest bed when there was plenty of room in the master suite? She found the whole routine, the easy way that they didn't even have to discuss whose turn it was to cook, the way that they'd fallen into a morning routine – even including the morning run, which was a bit of a slower pace now that one of them was stuck pushing the damn stroller that looked like something from some terrible sci-fi movie – all slick, aerodynamic lines.

She was scared downright shitless. Her life wasn't supposed to go well. Everything else in her life had been complicated as hell, and every good thing had disappeared. Why would this be any different? She was going to screw this up. She was going to do something foolish, she was going to say something stupid, and be an all around jackass like she always did, and all this would disappear. She wasn't cut out to be a parent when she could barely take care of herself. Hell, the only reason _why_ the reason the last five months had gone so smoothly was because of Maura, and if she lost that, she was sure she'd forget how to wake up and get dressed in the morning.

And Christopher, as much as she kept trying to view him as a burden, she couldn't help but want to love him. Couldn't help but actually feel something wholly unconditional, no matter how hard she tried to bury it, try to replace the damned emotion, she found herself wanting to protect him, make sure that he got everything he wanted in life. Hell, that was why she'd left him with Maura last night. He _would_ have everything he wanted. Her running was the most intelligent thing, really. She wouldn't do anything but fuck everything up. This kid deserved better than her as it's mother. This wasn't an act of stupidty, not at all. This was the smartest thing she'd ever done. She was doing the right thing, and putting the kid first. She had been right, last night, it was cruel to let a kid get used to Maura, and Maura's life and then force her own into things as well.

She frowned as she looked down at her pencil where it was bowing dangerously close to it's breaking point, running her hands through her hair before looking down at the shipment dates in front of her. "Hey, Frost, can you run a cross reference on the shipments between KLW communcations and any of the buildings that Davison worked at?" There was a few quick keystrokes, and she frowned. There were very few buildings Davison had worked at that had gotten shipments from the parent company, and absolutely none at all when their electrician-slash-private-investigator

She fought back the urge to groan in frustration, folding her hands together, resting her chin on her knuckles and her elbows on her desk, and watched the silent dispatch widget tick past on her computer screen. Thirteen traffic stops. Someone _actually_ calling the fire department to rescue a cat from a tree, and one of the volunteer units _actually_ responding to it. Three EMT calls, and she blinked as she looked at the last one, a sudden icy feeling settling into the pit of her stomach.

She'd sprung from her desk and was halfway out the door before Korsak or Frost could even ask what happened. She was forcing herself to breathe as she threw herself in the front seat of the unmarked, fishing out the lights from underneath the front passenger seat as she drove and barely bothering to do more than toss them on the front of the dash, as she skipped every red light she came across, ignoring all the horns that blared in her wake. No, the EMT call had said that it was the sort of thing that called for lights and sirens, and she was definitely going to use them.

_This can't be happening. _It was the only thought running through her head as she skidded around a curve in the road, slick with that not-quite frozen grey slush that was signalling an impending winter. It wasn't quite cold enough freeze, but just cool enough to make the roads slick, and she hated that she couldn't simply floor it as fast as she could go. _This is a sick joke. This is Ma trying to freak me out and give me a goddamn wake up call._ If it was, it was one hell of a good one.

She felt something that she hadn't felt since she was pinned to the floor, palms pierced, hot breath over her neck, unable to move. Sure, she'd been _scared_ since then, but this, this went beyond afraid. This was pure, utter, dread. She was pretty sure she managed to hit 90 on a side street despite the slush, slamming around a corner with a precision she was fairly sure that had she been in a better frame of mind would have made Vin Diesel – or whoever his stunt driver had been – jealous. Right now, though, she was running on pure adrenaline, trusting her body to do things that her rational mind would never think of.

She screeched – literally _screeched_ to a halt in front of a familiar yard, somewhere in the back of her mind knowing she'd likely have to get the tires changed after the stunts she had just pulled, swearing at the ambulance parked in front of a yard she had started to think of as _home._ She gasped at the sight, before damn near floating out of the car, taking one deep breath before charging inside, afraid of what she'd find.


	26. Chapter 26

A/N - yeah, like I said, evil, not cruel. Y'all didn't seriously think I was going to maim, kill, or otherwise harm any of the main characters, did you? I promise the next few chapters are all fluff and smut. mostly fluff, since I'm keeping the smut to "optional" chapters. (Who the hell am I kidding, I know that's why y'all are reading anyway) So like, a few chapters of fluff before going back to the case stuff.

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The icy feeling retreated, slightly, as she heard the first notes of Maura's ringtone coming through her phone as she passed through the foyer, and she let out a breath she didn't know she was holding as hazel eyes met hers. There was the faintest hint of unshed tears in those eyes, but she couldn't help the relieved slump of her shoulders as she realized that Maura was standing there in front of her, Christopher nestled against a shoulder. That the body the paramedics were loading onto a stretcher belonged to neither of them. "Jane – I was just calling you." She nodded, unable to do much of anything else.

"Dispatch – I saw -" The feeling of utter panic was slowly subsiding, but whole sentences were still beyond her. "Paramedics. Called here." She couldn't do anything more than step forward and wrap Maura in a fierce hug. She rested her chin on Maura's shoulder, trying to will away the thick feeling in her throat, trying to choke down the sob of relief. Maura was fine. Christopher was fine. That was all that mattered. The arm that Maura wasn't using to hold Christopher close wrapped around her, thumb tracing soothing circles across her shoulder blades. She was vaguely aware of the paramedics still working around her, and once the icy tendrils had started to retreat from where they'd been holding her innards captive she slowly pulled back from the embrace, shifting slightly so that she was standing next to Maura rather than trying to squeeze the life out of both the ME and their child. "What happened?" The words were barely a croak, and she found Maura handing Christopher off to her. Simply holding the cooing child, unknowing of what was going on around him, managed to make the few remaining knots in her stomach fade away.

Looking down into those deep brown eyes, she felt another wave of utter relief wrap around her. "Gertrude-" Was all Maura said, looking at the retreating stretcher as the paramedics made their way back out the front door. There was an arm wrapped around her waist, and a head buried against the crook of her neck. She cold feel the hot tracks of tears as Maura cried wordlessly against her. "She said she wasn't feeling well this morning, and I invited her over for tea- ventricular fibrillation, secondary to latent cardiomyopathy – she wouldn't have even felt it coming." One of the paramedics stepped back through the threshold.

"I wanted to let you ladies know that we shocked her back to normal sinus rhythm – she'll live, all thanks to you, Dr. Isles" He passed his eyes between the two of them. "She wasn't either of your mothers, right? Wouldn't want the poor kid to have the first bad thing he sees be his grandmother having a heart attack."

"No, she was watching him for us while we worked. Oh god, I'm so glad I took today off-" The fear in Maura's voice was evident, she could hear the same hundreds of _what ifs_ that could have played out whispering in her own ears. What if this kid had been left alone with the woman, and Maura hadn't been there for CPR? The very idea of the kid being left alone from ten in the morning until they got home at god knows what hour with a dead octogenarian? The very thought of it made her nearly sick to her stomach. She didn't even attempt to think of what could have happened to him, the various fates that could have befallen him, because just even daring to consider the worst had her heart hammering and chest tight. The paramedic backed out, heading towards the hospital with what had been their babysitter.

"You're both OK?" She asked, looking between Maura and Christopher, checking them for any sign of trauma.

"Outside of being emotionally drained, I believe we're both fine." She held the boy up in front of her, staring into his eyes, as though she could will them to inform her of any unvoiced troubles, and all she got was a wide grin from him. She couldn't help but notice the first glimpse of white in that grin, cocking her head slightly as she attempted to figure out if it was what she thought it was. Unable to contain her curiosity she swiped her pointer finger inside a tiny mouth, grimacing slightly at the slimy sucking at the digit, before confirming her suspicion.

"When'd he start getting teeth?" Maura blinked, taking Christopher back from her, confirming that yes, the boy had cut his first tooth. "Great, I thought all that crying shit was over for a while. Guess we're in for another few sleepless weeks."

"Jane-" She could hear the tentativeness in Maura's voice, and she supposed that the uncertain note had every right to be there. Eighteen hours ago, she'd stalked out the front door and said she'd wanted no part of this, and yet, here she was acting as though nothing had changed, when everything had. Maura had every right to doubt her, second guess her, believe that she wasn't serious about this.

"Look, I'm sorry for being an ass last night. It's just – I've been looking at this kid with the thought that I'll be giving him back, because at first, yeah, I wanted nothing more than to get him out of my hair. But now – now I'm scared shitless of it actually happening. And then I saw the house pop on dispatch asking for paramedics, and – I got here on autopilot. I think my car needs new tires. I just had to make sure that you and Christopher were all right. I, well, the idea of either of you _not_ being alright scared me even more than, well- Besides, you try getting used to _that _bed and even rhe new mattress over there feels like plywood when compared to that."

The words had come out in a breathless rush and Maura looked up at her with a soft smile that drew a quirk of her eyebrow, wondering what it was she said to get such a look back. "You do realize that in the entire five months he's been in our lives, I've never once heard you call Christopher by name? You've always called him _the kid_ until just now." She paused, suddenly realizing that Maura was right. She blinked as she realized that somewhere from the time she left the precinct until the time she got through the front door, even her internal monologue had stopped referring to him as _the kid._

"Well, it is his name, isn't it?" She grinned, suddenly feeling _relieved_. Like somehow, a giant weight and been lifted off of her shoulders. This wasn't an obligation , she no longer wanted to be a part of this kids life as _the best option _she wanted to be in his life as the _only_ option. "Shit – that was what I had been thinking of before – y'know, yesterday. He doesn't have any papers. No birth certificate or anything. I guess, it kinda got forgotten about with the case, and not knowing if we were going to keep him, or what. We should probably fix that." She found the grin slipping into a sly smirk as the other option came to mind. "Or we can keep him out of the system and train him to be some sort of vigilante superhero. What d'ya think? We could have the next Batman right here." There was a long moment where she was afraid she'd gone and put her foot in her mouth again, before Maura giggled. Not just laughed, but giggled.

"I'll call the county clerk first thing Monday morning. But for now, I believe you're not on call this weekend, and I think after the day we've had, the night calls for takeout, movies, and going to bed early."

"I think that this is just what the doctor ordered." She found her arms wrapping around Maura rather of their own free will as she leaned forward to place a gentle kiss to the top of the tiny head that was nestled against Maura's shoulder.


	27. Chapter 27

A/N - see, told you fluff. And another three chapters of fluff after this, before going back to case stuff.

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She found herself sitting on the floor in front of the TV, sitting across from the kid, watching as he gripped onto the edge of an oversized stuffed dump truck, the soft cloth wheels of the stuffed vehicle rolling easily over the floor as he waved it back and forth. She couldn't help the easy smile that had fallen on her face. She didn't have to purposely distance herself anymore. There was no reason to try and prevent this kid from worming his way into her heart.

Maura was right. There was no point in giving this kid up. Every other potential option was in no way fit to raise him. Christopher was theirs. And rather than making her panic, she was finding the more that she thought about that, the more she was all right with it. Tommy wasn't going to come back suddenly man enough to be a father. Lydia had pulled a dump and run. Her father was god knows where knocking up god knows how many other twenty-somethings. And now that the idea of this not being a fleeting, temporary, thing, that they weren't just a stopgap, that they were going to actually, seriously, do this, it felt – freeing.

She'd spent the last eighteen weeks trying so hard to distance herself from Christopher, trying her best to not get attached. But now, now, she found it so easy to let a contented grin settle, as she leaned forward to place one hand in front of where the stuffed dump truck was being rolled in slow arcs. The toy bounced against her once, twice, before Christopher turned it to run parallel to her arm instead of straight into it, and she gave a soft chuckle. The grin faded slightly as she realized just how _long_ of a name Christopher was. That would definitely have to get fixed, and she ran through the list of possible nicknames in her mind.

He didn't look much like the 'Chris' type, and 'Topher' was definitely ruled out. There was the possible collection of various nicknames that came from physical attributes, but that was something for the other kids in school to bestow upon him. Whether he'd wind up a S_port_ or a _Legs_ or a _Rock 'Em, Rizzoli – _that wasn't her place to name him. That was the role of coaches and teammates in little league and beyond. She pulled the stuffed satin toy just out of the kid's reach, grinning as he lunged forward, reaching for it, making the first tentative movements towards being able to crawl. "What do you think, kiddo? What's the best way to stop you from hating us when you realize that you have to learn-" She paused for a second, trying to figure this out herself - "nine seperate letters just to write your name? No, you're going to get a good ol' fashioned nickname, kiddo-"

She was talking to him in a quiet, soothing voice, trying her best to avoid him from having to hear the conversation Maura was currently having with one of Gertrude's relatives, alerting the myraid members of the plight that had befallen their babysitter – well, _former babysitter_ she supposed, since it wasn't as though the elderly woman would do much caretaking from the hospital. She frowned as she considered just what was going to happen from here, if they no longer had someone to watch the kid. It wasn't as though she could take another week off, not with so much going on this case. It was bad enough that she wasn't on call, she still had every intention of trying to eke out a connection between their four dead bodies, between any of the bodies and a reason KLW would want to kill them, between anything and anything. She'd take finding a connection between peanut butter and jelly if it meant bringing them closer to solving this case.

There was a sharp knock on the door that signalled the arrival of their pizza, and she got up to get it, dancing around where Maura was still on the phone to set it down, grab plates, napkins and the red pepper and garlic off the spice rack, and scoop the kid up for his dinner as well. There was that odd look on Maura's face again when the phone was finally hung up, and the woman turned to take in the sight. After all, Maura was the better cook between them, the least she could do was set the table and make sure their kid ate. "I even got you that like, white, spinach, broccoli _thing_ you call pizza." She shifted the kid's position against her with a practiced ease, gently patting him on his back, listening for the tell-tale belch.

"It's not a thing. White pizza is far healthier than consuming eighty percent of the recommended daily amount of cholesterol per slice."

"It's not pizza, I can tell you that much." Feeling the little body nestled against her relax, she grinned, heading back to set him down in science-fiction-like contraption that had simply said _floor gym_ on the box, even though she wasn't quite sure how the item fit either word. But the kid seemed to like all the bells and whistles and whatever on it, and Maura said something about it being stimulating to developing brains, and she'd ignored any other sciencey things that came after it. "What do you think, Kit, buddy? You think that's pizza?" She grinned as she got a confused head tilt coming from a scrunchy infant face.

"Kit?" Maura questioned as she grabbed a slice of meat lovers from her half of the pie and settled down on the couch next to her friend.

"What? It's a perfectly good nickname for Christopher. Besides, it's all like, badass Knight Rider. It makes me think of Trans Ams that have rocket boosts and secret agents and awesome. And this kid's going to be all, like, awesome."

"You do recall that Knight Industries Two Thousand was the car, correct?"

"You watched Knight Rider?" At Maura's slight blush, she couldn't help but double over laughing. "I can't believe you of all people watched Knight Rider." The blush deepened and she couldn't help but laugh harder. "Did you have a thing for feathered perms, chest hair and leather jackets too?" There was an attempt of a head shake that had her resting her head against Maura's shoulder she was laughing so hard that she couldn't stay upright. "Oh my god, you had a crush on the Hoff."

"I was nine!" Still, Maura was grinning along with her as her laughter slowly stopped.

"Your whole horrible taste in men thing started young, huh?" She watched the grin instantly fall off of Maura's face and cursed herself for her uncanny ability to stick her foot in her mouth at just the right time. "Sorry – I -"

"You're right." There was a bark of a self depreciating laugh. "I suppose it says something when the _best_ relationship I've had was with a man who's wanted in six different countries."

"You've dated – normal – guys too. Not _every_ one of your exes is, well -"

"Yes, but every man I've been invested in has wound up to be some sort of criminal." There was a long pause where she found herself watching the kid bat at something hanging above his head on the floor gym, rather than watch Maura slowly psychoanalyze herself. "I suppose I have a subconcious attraction to dangerous people. Charming, nice on the surface, but with the potential to be -"

"Dangerous?"

"Well, yes."

"Shame Bruce Wayne's not real, he'd be perfect for you. All dark, brooding, millionaire by day and dangerous, brooding, vigilante by night. At least Batman's on the right side of the law, and not likely to maim or kill or kidnap anyone outside of the Joker and Two-Face."

"If he _was_ real I'm sure the laws of physics would have something to say about some of his more outlandish inventions."

"Oh come on, I'm sure if you invested all your money into creating outlandish inventions instead of all that charitable crap, you'd have a whole bunch of the same awesome toys. Hell, you'd have a full Iron Man suit by now. I'm telling you, don't call the county clerk, we'll have a personal superhero in the family. Kit here can scare away any of the serial killers, sexual deviants, and otherwise awful men that we seem to attract." She'd gotten Maura to laugh again, and she found herself sitting rather proudly at that. Self-psychoanylyzing to laughing in less than five minutes.

"Yes, but the last time I wound up with a serial killer after me, it turned into the best day of my life." She followed Maura's eyes over to where Kit was very happily batting away at the stuffed animals above his head, before rolling over to try and reach for his favorite toy, the whatever-it-was (neither of them had been able to figure out just what it was intended to be) that Rondo had given him. She found her left arm going around Maura's shoulders, pulling her friend close to her.

"Well it certainly wasn't the worst." She watched as the little body rolled first one way, then the other. "You think I can use him to train Jo to roll over?" She loved the laugh she got in response as she felt a maching arm rap around her own back, as they sat there grinning and laughing together, and she found herself wondering how she could have ever lived without this.


	28. Chapter 28

A/N And yes, finally, we're about to get to the Rizzles ness. One more chapter of Jane...being Jane, and then finally, what y'all have been waiting for. It only took 30 chapters to get there. But once it does, there's a lot of fluff. I promise.

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She found herself humming along to whatever crappy pop song was bleating through the store speakers, surprised at just how...content she felt. The last four and a half months had been an ever growing storm of absolute shit in her life as she tried to break case that just got worse and worse and worse the more they let it fester unsolved. If the frustration with that wasn't bad enough, there was the whole situation with the kid. And that had been gnawing at her even worse. But now, half of that burden was gone. Now, she could devote everything to the case, and not have to worry about figuring out what to do with the kid. Well, there _was_ the figuring out what would happen now that they no longer had a babysitter, but that was a minor problem. Babysitters and daycares were a dime a dozen.

Everything else had sort of fallen perfectly into place. She was going to do this. She and Maura were actually going to do this, and do this right. There wasn't going to be any handing the kid off to someone who wasn't fit to parent. And now that she didn't have to worry about what was going to happen when she gave this kid up, because they weren't going to. She made a mental note as she walked the aisles of Wal Mart to try and talk Maura away from the preschools with tuitions higher than some colleges. After all, it was just preschool. She liked the idea of doing everything they could to see this kid succeed, but there were limits. There had to be some sort of compromise between fancy pants four hundred kids per teacher.

It was almost amazing how starkly different her last two nights sleep had been. Thursday, she'd gotten next to no sleep, tossing and turning across the expanse of a queen sized bed that felt entirely too large and entirely too stiff, hating just how damn cowardly she'd been for trying to run away and trying her damndest to fight off the inevitable. She had known, she supposed, from the second that it was decided that _she_ was the best one to keep an eye on this kid, that they weren't a stopgap measure. They were going to be this kid's parents, and rather than embrace it wholeheartedly like Maura had, she'd decided to go kicking and screaming against it.

And then last night, despite speeding home to find their babysitter having a heart attack in the middle of Maura's living room, despite having stormed out the night before, she found that she'd slept better than she had in ages. Since before an infant that couldn't sleep through the night had been thrust into her life. It had seemed like the last hastily constructed barrier to try and prevent Kit from getting to her had eroded, and it left her feeling all the more free for it. She didn't have to lie, hide herself in sarcasm and pretend that she didn't actually enjoy seeing all the amazing things a child could do.

She found herself staring at the various collections of baby toys, wondering just how much she could get away with buying without tipping Maura off as to where she'd _really_ gone. The woman's views on Wal Mart were quite clear, and she was glad for the eco-friendly bags because it at least left _some_ plausible deniability, but there was a limit there as well. Coming home with diapers, toys, paper towels, socks and soda, well it didn't really leave too many options as to what stores stocked all those things. But she didn't give a crap about exploitation or the environment or any of that crap – she cared that she didn't have to go to six different stores when she could just go to one.

It was bad enough that since she had moved in with Maura she found herself eating nothing but that organic crap Maura insisted on buying. She was willing to deal with eating nothing but _free range _this and _hormone free_ that, and was even willing to admit that the steaks from the co-op were actually pretty damn good. She still lied and pretended to make faces when Maura insisted on making that tofu stir-fry recipe that she usually had seconds of, and Maura did her part and pretended not to notice. But she wasn't going to give up the convenience of big-box shopping. If she was pressed, she might, _might_ switch to Target only, but until she was given an ultimatum, she'd keep up her usual routine and pretend as though she really did make three separate stops.

She found herself in the clothing department, comparing the bag of crew socks to the no-shows, trying to remember just how her new boots treated the lower cut socks. The last pair had been so well broken in that had they not been _boots_ and thus had no room for her feet to breathe, would have been perfectly comfortable without socks at all. She settled on one pack of each, She reached for a four pack of underwear before pausing for a moment, slipping around the cart to look at the slightly nicer than multipack of fruit of the loom boyshorts spread on a display table. She could use a few nice pairs, after all. Not every set of lingerie in her closet had to be entirely practical. She could have a few pairs that looked good while being practical.

She hadn't thought anything of it as she picked out a few matching sets in hunter green, dark red and colbalt, tossing them into the cart and moving on to buy a bag of Jo's dry food, one of those massive sets of paper towel rolls, and what few other staples they needed. In fact it went completely forgotten about as she shopped until she reached the register, not realizing that she'd tossed them on the belt just after the diapers and just before the pack of cheap razors she'd gotten used to. "Good for you!" She blinked, looking up from the cheap tabloid trying to convince her that bat boy, was, in fact, still living, not sure what the clerk was talking about until she saw the other woman hold up the blue panties, a little lacier than she usually preferred, but that she had to admit, would look damn good on her. "Still managing to get some even with a kid? I'm jealous, honey." She found herself blushing without even meaning to.

"Oh, no it's not-" She was stammering. After all, it wasn't like she was planning on getting laid any time in the near future. The only person that she'd shared a bed with in the last – hell, _year_ was Maura, and the only person she was going to be sharing a bed with was Maura, and she sure as hell hadn't bought sexy underwear to look good in front of her friend. Not that Maura wouldn't appreciate it – the woman appreciated _any_ of her attempts to wear something that didn't come in a six pack of various patterns and prints. But it wasn't like Maura would _appreciate it_ appreciate it, would she?

"Hey, if you've got it, flaunt it. How old's your kid?"

"Almost five months." There was a sharp, matronly eye run over her as the rest of her items were rung up.

"No wonder. If _I_ looked that good five months after having any of mine, they'd be a lot closer in age then they are. Your total is -" She swiped the card mechanically, mind reeling from the conversation as she loaded the trunk. Why _had_ she felt the need to buy some fancy lace thing when it wasn't as though anyone was going to be seeing it? Was this the way Maura felt after a shopping trip all the time? That it didn't matter who was going to see something, it was the knowing you looked damn good in it that mattered? After all, it wasn't as though she had to dress up for Maura, she was used to lounging around their living room in shorts and a tank top.

But at the same time, she knew Maura would notice, and enjoy the fact that she'd taken some more effort than "grab six pack off rack, check out." She'd even put in the effort to get matching bras. After all, her non-sport bra collection was starting to get slightly worn out, since over the last five months she'd found her days off no longer consisted of her sitting on her couch with a six pack in a sports bra and boxers watching the game, but actually having to do things like run errands, or take Kit out someplace. She knew Maura would be proud of her for putting in the effort to dress up, even if no one else was going to get to see the fruits of this little shopping trip. Even if Maura was the only one to see it, she was fine with that.

She blinked as she made the easy turn onto their street, fumbling on the front visor of her car for the garage door release, looking around the two car garage, wondering when, exactly, her car had taken up residence on the left hand side of the garage. Her side of the garage, just like it was her side of the bed, her side of the couch – this place was more her home now that the apartment she'd been living in for the last six years of her life. Part of her really, really wanted to be afraid of that. Even the most serious relationship she'd ever had, had never resulted in moving in together. But even when she'd stormed out the other night, she'd realized halfway to the door that she hadn't even said she was going back to _her_ place. It was simply the apartment. Someplace that still had her name on the lease, but was certainly not _home._

She shrugged off the uncomfortable feeling, choosing instead to juggle the bags enough to allow her access to the house, grinning as she caught scent of what was currently cooking. "Is that that delicious garlic stuffed pork roast thing I smell cooking?" She asked, setting down the bags on the counter, putting away what she could in the kitchen.

"It would be." The grin brightened as there was confirmation as to one of her favorite meals cooking. She didn't even know where Maura had picked up the recipe, it certainly wasn't the woman's usual faire, but it had been made one week for Sunday dinner when Maura had insisted on actually cooking for the rest of the Rizzolis and it remained one of her favorite things since. She looked at where Maura was standing over the sink, rinsing some head of something entirely too green to count as food, and couldn't help herself.

She wrapped her arms around a trim waist, feeling Maura lean back into her. It just felt like such a natural thing to do. "You are amazing, you know that?" She grinned down at where a blonde head was pressing gently back against her shoulder, and she found her eyes drifting down to perfect pink lips, thinking about just how equally natural it would be for her to lean in and _kiss_ Maura, as a sign of just how appreciative she was to come home and find one of the best recipes in existence currently slow roasting in the oven.

Wait, where the hell had _that_ thought come from? Sure, she was more relaxed now that she had set her mind on actually being a mother to Kit rather than give him up at the end of their designated term of babysitting, but she wasn't _that _relaxed about things. This was Maura. This was her best friend. This was the woman who had been kind enough to give up a house, a full nights sleep, and sanity to help her raise this child. The sudden enormity of everything hit her like a ton of bricks. She'd moved in with Maura, she slept in the same bed as Maura, she'd just found herself buying fancy lacy underwear because she knew Maura would like it, and now she was considering kissing Maura simply because the woman had done something so simple, yet so amazingly perfect.

Sure, the urge had been there before, but generally it was after a few too many drinks and when their usual flirty banter had started to reach an excessive level. But it had always been precipitated by something like alcohol and a few too many lingering touches and a few too many double entendres. It had never come up wholly out of the blue like this before. She'd never simply looked at Maura and thought that the most natural, right thing on the planet would be to kiss her. And honestly, the thought was freaking her out slightly. What sort of a person suddenly desired to kiss their best friend for no reason at all? She pulled back suddenly, glancing at the microwave clock, mentally plotting a route in her head. Right now, more than ever, she needed advice. "How much longer til dinner's ready?" She asked, already reaching for her keys.

"About forty minutes – why?"

"I should be back before then, but if I'm not, don't wait up. I'll be right back."


	29. Chapter 29

A/N I will have you know that outside of the original ice pick red herring that was me working the kinks out of this case, this is actually really tightly plotted, and there is nothing mentioned in here at all that does not become relevant. I didn't just introduce a character for one chapter twenty chapters ago for him never to appear again. ;) Actually, this was one of the first things I wrote for this fic, and the prior chapter was actually just to introduce him for this chapter. Next chapter devolves into pure Rizzles fluff, more fluff, some smut, and then back onto case stuff with more fluff thrown in here and there.

* * *

Impartial. That was what she needed right now. Someone that she could count on to give sound advice. She ran through her options. Her brother was out. Frankie was just too – unflappable. If she went to him and went _I kinda really wanna kiss my best friend because I think I might be in love with her _she'd likely get a shrug and an offer of a beer. Her mother, obviously, was out, because even if her mother was all right with the whole being in love with another woman thing, there was no way that she could get impartial advice out of the woman. Angela's first thought would instantly jump into a wedding and start popping out _more_ grandchildren. As if one wasn't enough.

Frost and Korsak weren't exactly good options either, for much the same reason as her brother. Frost would mutter something about it not being fair to pull someone as fine as Maura out of the dating pool, Korsak would mutter something about hoping that her love life wound up better than his, and that would be that. No, she needed someone that she could actually voice her fears about this to. Because she was, honestly, afraid. Afraid of the fact that she was suddenly finding herself wanting to kiss her very female best friend, when every date she'd had over the last twenty years had been with a man. Afraid that Maura just viewed this whole thing as them being babysitters, granted for a much longer term than originally planned on, but just that – they were watching this kid, they weren't a family.

She was pretty sure her knuckles were white on the steering wheel as she came to that thought. She had a _family._ Or at least, something that she was finding that she would not mind being a family. Somewhere along the line, she'd come to realize that she would not, at all, mind waking up next to Maura every morning for the rest of her life. She would not mind coming home and helping Kit with his homework, teaching him how to throw a ball, how to execute the perfect canonball to get maximum splashage. And that was what was scaring her more than anything. She'd never imagined having a family before. She'd always figured it would never happen because of the job. But now that she had a chance at it?

The only problem was the way that this had all come about. She couldn't have done things the nice, easy way. Normal people fell in love, moved in together, got married, had kids. Normal relationships had a natural progression to them. This, this was the furthest thing from normal possible. This was, they'd had a kid dumped on them, decided to raise him, moved in together, and now, now the more she started to think about it, the more she was realizing that she very well may be in love. Because to even consider her life without Maura in it? It made her want to vomit. The idea of never waking up and seeing a sleepy, not quite all there Maura again? The idea of never hearing a string of muttered half-profanities when even the normally put-together ME managed to trip over a wayward tortoise at two in the morning? It was something that she really, really, didn't want to even begin to consider.

She was glad to see the majority of the cars around her starting up to pull out of the small parking lot as she headed in. Good, she'd managed to just miss the service. She peeked around inside, stopping out of habit to dip two fingers in the fountain at the back of the church and genuflect as she looked around for the most impartial source of advice she could find. This was a man who had known her since childhood, and someone that she could trust to not let a single word of what was said ever pass between them. "What brings you here, my child?" She jumped as she heard Father BJ come up behind her.

"Father Benjamin, I uh – I need some advice." She got a warm smile in return, as the man lead her back towards the rectory, the same familiar path they had traced the last time, and the same two tumblers and bottle of Laphroig set between them.

"What can I help you with, Jane?" She paused, staring at the amber liquid in front of her, not quite sure where even to begin with things.

"What is love?" She finally just blurted out. Straightforward, and to the point. She wasn't even sure if she _loved_ Maura. Just, no one went out and bought things to improve their wardrobe, or ate nothing but free range organic crap, or stormed out because she was afraid that Kit would love Maura more than he would love her without not having any sort of a feeling there.

"Are you quoting Haddaway at me, or asking a deep philosophical question?" She couldn't help the chuckle, the tension haven been broken slightly.

"I mean, like, how do you know-like, I mean-"

"Relax, take a drink. I gather you're here because of a sudden strike by cupid's arrow?" She rolled her eyes, but nodded, taking a small sip of the scotch offered to her. "And what has you so concerned with this?"

"Everything." She felt cold blue eyes on hers, the same look that had been cultivated over the years to make unrepentant school children cave beneath him. "Really. I mean, this whole thing is so messed up, I don't know what to think of anything anymore. It's like, everything I'd always pictured when I was little just got tossed out the window, and I'm – I'm not totally okay with that. But at the same time, there's Kit now, and there's so much more at risk, it's not just me that's going to get shit for it, he's going to too and-"

There was a long moment where the priest simply sat there, drinking in her breathless tumble of words, before speaking. "Jane, who was the first person you dated?" It was an odd question, she supposed, but she went with it.

"Pauley Sanderson, in the sixth grade." It was an easy name to recall. After all, her first kiss had resulted in getting their braces tangled together.

"And after him?" She thought for a moment.

"Matt Mazziella sophomore year." She watched the priest take a long, thoughtful sip of the scotch.

"No one in between them?" She knew her eyes had widened, even though she was doing her best to will them not to.

"How did you-I never-" She took a long gulp of the whisky as well, she needed it. "_No one_ knew about that." How was it that the man had managed to cut to the point of why she was there so quickly?

"While I take my vows very seriously, and do not bandy about what is said under the sacrament of confession, I may have been informed of something that happened at camp the summer before your freshman year, by someone who was having a slight crisis of faith upon discovering it." She couldn't help the slight gasp.

"My mother – how did she find out? She never mentioned it."

"She may have overheard a phone call."

"But Jess and I – she knew we were friends. We talked all the time when we got home from camp. She was damned happy – sorry – that I found another girl I could talk to."

"And how many _friends_ end phone calls with the phrase, if I recall it correctly, 'love you, miss you, really wanna kiss you?" She knew her cheeks were blazing red more out embarrassment over the utterly cheesetastic line than having her childhood relationship found out. "I will admit, the only reason I recall that particular quip is because of your choice of words." Her cheeks simply burned redder.

"It was a summer camp thing. Y'know, last year of camp, wanting to do something different, something exciting, forbidden. I mean, we went our separate ways by October, just because we wound up going to different high schools. I figured it was something that I'd just, sorta, y'know, grow out of." Jess had been fun, and even though things had never made it past second base in a heated romp under the bleachers, it had been strangely satisfying in a way that she hadn't experienced until she finally lost her virginity. She supposed that alone should have been half the evidence she needed - if second base with a woman was on par with going all the way with a man, she should have figured this out a long time ago.

"Except you never grew out of it." She shrugged. So maybe this wasn't some earth shattering, life changing thing, to realize she was attracted to Maura.

"I mean, since then, I've only really dated guys." There was an unspoken _but_ in that sentence.

"But you've never completely ruled out women."

"I mean, it's so damn confusing. I like guys. Really, I do. I'm not like some man hating stuck up bitch who thinks that men are the enemy. And besides, I get enough shit for things just for being a cop. I hear the same damn dyke jokes every day. It'd be ten times worse if it wasn't just, y'know, jokes. But at the same time – it's like, I'll see some gorgeous woman and I'll be like _damn, _and it's not cause I'm jealous. It's cause -" She trailed off for a moment. "This is a _really_ awkward conversation to be having with a priest."

Father Benjamin simply laughed. "I know the feeling though, the confusion. I may be old, but I'm not deaf, Jane. I know what you children call me, and I know why you do it. I will say, my reasons for taken the vows _were_ cowardly at first, but I do believe that this is God's will for me. To be able to give back, to serve, to minister to those that so desperately need it." She blinked, taking another long sip of the scotch, draining her glass. Had her childhod priest really just admitted that all the schoolyard rumors about him were true? "And I believe it is God's will for you to have this family that you crave." She was about to open her mouth in protest, before Father BJ spoke again. "God tested Job, and Job came out all the more stronger for it. God does not put obstacles in our paths that he does not believe we can overcome. We merely need to have faith, that every wall put in front of us is one we're meant to scale. Do not think of falling in love with Maura as a brick wall meant to stop you in your tracks. This is something you are meant to climb over, because on the other side lies your salvation" She blinked a few times, her throat suddenly thick.

"But what if – I mean, she only dates y'know-" She'd never seen Maura ever express any interest in anyone other than men, what if she was pinning all this on false hope? What if she only saw those little flirty gestures that they so often shared because she wanted to see them? What if they were just indicative of Maura's social cluelesness and were never intended to actually be flirty?

"I will say I hate that the reading so often chosen for weddings begins with Corithians chapter 13, verse 4, because love is not patient, and it certainly is not kind. But it does protect, it does trust, it does hope, and most of all it _does _ rejoice with truth. Rejoice in that truth."

"But I mean, we've been friends for so long, how can we- what if we y'know, mess that up."

"When the perfect comes, the partial shall pass away. And perfect love casts out fear. What are you so afraid of?" She fought the urge to give a bitter laugh. What was she afraid of? Everything. Wasn't that what she'd been saying over and over again since she walked into the rectory with the man?

"I'm just – she's everything. I mean she was my best friend, but recently it's like, we're raising this kid and I see her with him, and all I want to do is kiss her. She's not just my best friend anymore, she's the mother to our child, and I don't care if we ever get to the y'know-" She gestured wildy with her hands, and Father Benjamin just smirked, "But I just want to hold her while we watch TV, kiss her when she – right before I came here, we were in the kitchen, and she was cooking dinner, and everything was just so – perfect it was like, there weren't any words for it, I just wanted to do something to _show_ how perfect it was.

"Jane, you know that before one gets married within the church, that every couple must go through Pre-Cana classes with the priest that will be performing the wedding." She nodded. "I will say that out of the hundreds of couples I've married, nearly all of them were not half as in love as I can tell you and Maura are. And the last time I saw the two of you together you were trying to convince me you were just friends."

"But-"

"There is no fear in love." The words were said with a quiet conviction, and she looked up at the craiggy face at the man who knew some of her deepest, darkest childhood secrets. She joked about making up things for the forced weekly confession, because she refused to confess to things that she felt no regret for, but this man also knew what few regrets she had. This was a man who had seemingly endless wisdom, and she felt as though she had no choice but to believe him when he said that. "Well? What are you doing still sitting here, bothering me? Go home, go be with the woman you love. With your family. Where you belong." She smiled, standing when he did, surprised to find him wrapping her in a hug. "I still expect to see you start attending more regularly. It would be a pleasure to have all of you here."

"Still trying to pad the collection plate, Father?"

"Well, we _could_ use a new roof-" She found a scrap of paper being handed to her. "Go, be with your family, and look this up when you get home." She glanced at the slip, and nodded, giving the man a parting handshake, feeling decidedly nervous, but decidedly at peace.


	30. Chapter 30

A/N And _finally_ we get to the Rizzles. Finally. And to anyone wondering, the verse at the end is Proverbs 5:19. Yes, that is the actual quote.

* * *

When she walked back into the house the wonderful aroma had increased tenfold, and she found Maura at the counter in a very similar position to the one they'd been in earlier. She found herself without a second thought as she wrapped her arms around a trim waist, smiling almost smugly as she felt the lithe form slump slightly against her, letting her take on some of the weight of the day. "This smells delicious. Oh god, is that pumpkin pie?"

"Yes, it is."

"You are amazing, you know that?" There was the urge to lean down and kiss her again. And, bolstered by the pep talk she'd just gotten by Father Benjamin she decided _why the hell not? _It was a completely chaste gesture, and after a moment of stunned silence. she could feel lips under hers quirk up into a smile.

"I may have been told once or twice." She leaned in again, this time with slightly more force. It was still tight lipped, still chaste, but she let it linger for a moment, surprised at how easily Maura leaned back into it, gently kissing back. "Hmm, I suppose I shouldn't tell you that there's also a pecan pie in the oven. I was perfecting the recipes for Thanksgiving." There was a contented grin on Maura's face, and she leaned in for another kiss when she was startled by the sound of a tiny fist banging against the plastic of a high chair, and she stepped back, raising an eyebrow. "Pumpkin is one of the better starter foods for infants. And he is sitting upright, and he did cut his first tooth, he's at the right age to start on solid foods." She looked at the pulpy orange puree that sat at the bottom of the blender and grinned.

"And the pecans?"

"Are simply because you love sinful amounts of sugar in your desserts."

"It's not a sinful amount of sugar, it's a perfect amount."

"Jane, the only ingredients in pecan pie are corn syrup, molasses and pecans."

"Not true. You do that rum, bourbon, whatever thing with it that makes it perfect." She couldn't help herself, she leaned in for another kiss at the very thought of one of Maura's pecan pies. She let this one linger for a long moment, feeling the body in her arms relax completely against her.

"Glad to know my culinary efforts are appreciated." She simply hummed her contentedness, pulling Maura even closer to her.

"If I'd known there was pie involved I would have done this a lot sooner." She leaned in, each kiss getting progressively more bold. How she had put off doing this for this long was utterly shocking. It wasn't even anything major, important. It was just a kiss, but it felt so – natural. Like this was exactly where she belonged. In her kitchen, with the mother of their child, preparing his first attempt at solid food, trading gentle kisses. When the sound of a tiny fist hitting plastic again interrupted them, she took over pulling out the roast and the pie from the oven, setting them both on the cooling racks already set up, watching as Maura gathered up the tiny bowl and plastic spoon. This wasn't something she would miss if the world depended on it. The odds of the normally pristine ME winding up covered in pureed pumpkin were entirely too good to pass up.

She took the seat on the opposite side of the high chair, watching as a small dollop of pumpkin was placed onto a tiny plastic spoon, and waved in front of Kit. She grinned as she pulled out her phone, wanting videographic evidence if this kid managed to coat Maura in pumpkin. Also, this was his first attempt at solid food, this was one hell of a milestone, it deserved to be caught on camera. She frowned as the kid watched the spoon make its way to his mouth, but refused to open. "C'mon Christopher, open wide-" She grinned as Maura went into full baby-voice mode. It really was absolutely adorable. Like, gag me with a spoon adorable. But this was Maura, even Maura being sickeningly sweet still managed to look somewhat refined. Kit merely watched the spoon with near disinterest, and there was a look of growing frustration on the ME's face that was just serving to make this even more entertaining.

She watched as Maura clucked and cooed and did all she could to try and get the kid to open his mouth before she reached across for the small bowl and plastic spoon. She watched the kid do the exact same thing to her, watch the spoon with a half interested look, but clamp down when she made any move to get the food off the spoon and into his mouth. Remembering something her mother used to do with Tommy when he was refusing to try something new, she looked down at the spoon, back at Kit, and pulled the most ridiculous face she possibly could, waiting the beat for him to burst out laughing before jamming the spoon inside. She took the reproachful screech of her name from Maura as she watched the kid gum the pumpkin off the spoon, pausing for a second before smiling. She scooped up a little more of the goop, watching as this time he willingly opened his mouth for it.

She gave a triumphant smirk at Maura as the kid took another few spoonfuls of the pumpkin puree, passing the bowl and spoon back off to Maura, who was still looking at her with narrowed eyes, although any initial anger at the way she'd forcefully gotten the kid to eat had faded. She hadn't really _forced_ anything. Just took an opening presented to her. "See? Sometimes you just gotta make 'em try new things. Ma used to do that to Tommy all the time. He really tried to be a picky eater." She grinned, getting up and placing a gentle kiss first to the top of Kit's head and then another to Maura's temple as she busied herself with preparing two plates of their own dinner, her own covered in an outrageous amount of salt, the other with a much more sedate amount of seasoning.

The grin was still firmly in place as she sat back down, watching the kid finish the rest of the small bowl that had been prepared for him. "I still can't say I approve of the tactic." She simply stuck her tongue out, laughing as the last few traces of anger faded away.

"If it works, it works. Ma used to say that parenting is like trench warfare. It's dirty, unfair, and no one wins." She frowned. "Oh god, I'm quoting my mother." The frown deepened at Maura's answering smirk. "Why am I quoting my mother? I don't care that I've got one of my own now, I'm _still_ not supposed to be quoting my mother. Understanding the _when you have kids, Janie, then you'll understand _comments, yes. But quoting her? What sort of bizzarro universe did I wind up in?" She attempted to glare at Maura's laughing form. "You're not supposed to be laughing. You're supposed to be on my side here." She angrily speared a potato, attempting to take her frustration out on her food.

"And why's that?"

"Y'know, parents versus meddling grandparents. If we don't put up a strong front, my mother's going to come in and criticize everything we do. _Janie, don't let him jump on the couch. Janie, don't let him have candy after dinner. Janie, don't drop him on his head like I did with Tommy._" the laughter across from her intensified, and she kept her gaze focused on her plate, knowing that if she looked up she'd just wind up joining in.

"She hasn't been that meddlesome."

"Yet. But that was when she still thought that there was going to be someone else coming in and taking over for her to lay the guilt trips on. Once she finds out we're it, you better reinforce the back door before she breaks it down one of these days."

"Actually, I was speaking with Angela while you were at the store earlier, in regards with what's going to happen since Gertrude is ill."

"And?"

"Your mother is quite an intelligent woman." Her eyes narrowed.

"You mean quite the manipulative woman."

"She may have talked Stanley into expanding the hours of the cafe. She'll now be there for the dinner shift, and if I go in an hour earlier, barring any suspicious deaths that I get called out to, I'll be home by the time she'll be going in."

"And she doesn't have to deal with Stanley."

"I believe that was another perk, as your mother put it."

"She's got that man whipped. He knows that he'd be out of business if it wasn't for her menu additions. Face it, even peter rabbit pancakes are better than three day old donuts."

"Actually on that topic-" She did _not_ like Maura's smirk. "She did say that she took Friday off this week-"

"No, do _not_ talk about that. If she's happy, she's happy, but I'm going to go on doing my ostrich impression and pretending that if I can't see it, it's not happening."

"It could be worse."

"Maura, the only worse option for my mother to date would be Pike. And even my mother has more taste than to date that." She swept away their dinner plates, rinsing them and tucking them into the dishwasher, cutting off two slices of pie, pumpkin for Maura and pecan for herself, before frowning as she opened the fridge. "Really, you make pie, and you don't have any cool whip?" The frown deepened when she realized that there wasn't any in the freezer either.

"I have something better, actually." She grinned as a pint of fresh cream appeared followed by a small silver carafe. "Who needs a chemically hydrogenated product that contains no milk or cream when one can have freshly whipped cream courtesy of science?" There was a shake before the trigger on the carafe was depressed, revealing a perfect stream of fresh whipped cream.

"But isn't science what brought us Cool Whip?"

"This is far simpler science. The ideal gas law is basic chemistry, it requires merely a high school level understanding of thermodynamics to grasp, rather than the many degrees it took for someone to concoct something that passes for whipped cream when it is neither whipped nor cream." She had to admit, she loved it when Maura got all sciency, even if 90% of what was said went over her head.

"Doesn't that make it better though, since it required actual smart people to make, and _not_ high schoolers?" It was a debate purely for debate's sake, as she grabbed the silver jar from Maura's hands, squeezing the trigger on it before Maura could utter a word of warning, unable to help the slight shriek as the whipped topping came out of it almost explosively fast, leaving a rather hearty dollop on her own plate and another solid dab across Maura's cheek where the woman had attempted to reach across and prevent this very scenario. She grinned sheepishly, glad that blonde hair was pulled back, since she was sure if it was down she'd be getting a rebuke for getting whipped cream in Maura's hair. As it was, though, the hair was safe, and she found herself unable – or, rather unwilling – to stop from leaning in and sealing her lips around the bit of white fluff that was accenting a high cheekbone.

She grinned as she could feel the woman's breath hitch beneath her, pulling her close again. "Perhaps you're right," She muttered in an ear, "This is better than Cool Whip." She was surprised to find Maura being the one to initiate the kiss, but made no move to back away, instead melting further into it. They stood there for a long moment, arms wrapped around each other, lips gently touching, neither making any move to either part or deepen the kiss.

They finally broke away when the sounds of baby squirming in high chair reminded them of the fact that Kit was still sitting upright at the kitchen table. She gestured with her head towards the living room as she easily lifted him free, settling him in the playpen, frowning as he discovered the pull string of the stuffed big bird her brother had unearthed from the storage unit that she thought for sure her mother had cut the string off of between herself and her brothers. "Why do all these kids toys have to talk?" She groaned, grabbing one of the pillows to settle between her back and the arm of the couch, swinging one leg up, and inviting Maura to sit back against her, balancing her plate of pie on the thigh of her foot on the ground.

"Because sound actively engages a developing mind."

"You mean there's secretly a conspiracy to make parents hate toy companies." She wrapped an arm around Maura's waist, content to just sit there cuddling on the couch, not even caring that Maura had put on some terrible reality television show. After all, it was a Saturday night, she'd only ever cared about college ball enough to get a good idea of what up and coming prospects might one day be playing for the Pats, and it wasn't like there was anything else on. She could allow the woman some trash TV with a minimal amount of teasing.

This felt _right._ She had fought so hard, kicking and screaming against it, and now she couldn't understand why. Why on earth did she not want this? What on earth had she been so afraid of, anyway? She held up a teasing forkful of her own pie in front of Maura's face, watching entranced as a blond head dipped forward, lips parting to take the offered morsel before leaning back again to where they had quite comofortably nestled together, the back of Maura's head fitting perfectly against her shoulder. This was perfect, comfortable. Just her and her family enjoying a delicious dessert on a cold November evening, the only thing that was missing was a fire going in the fire place, and Maura had one of those fancy electric ones that took all the fun out of having a fire going in the first place. She set her plate down on the coffee table, just far enough in that a wayward terrier wouldn't be able to get to it, and leaned in to brush her lips against Maura's temple, pulling the woman even closer. She got a contented hum in response, before the woman in her arms shifted slightly, allowing her to go in for a proper kiss.

There was a long moment where they sat there, lips gently brushing against one another, neither moving to deepen the kiss, just content to sit there, chastely locked together, before Maura was the one to pull away. "Jane – why?" She shrugged, not entirely sure herself what had caused it.

"You looked too perfect not to kiss." There was a blush and an eyebrow quirked at her. "You did." She leaned in for another kiss, gently lowering Maura back on the couch. "You were standing there and all I wanted to do was pull you close and kiss you senseless."

"And now?"

"You're still looking perfect." She grinned, taking her time to gently swipe against a lower lip with her tongue, not wanting to hurry the kiss along at all, content to simply take her time and explore. This wasn't about passion, or want, or need, this was about having what she'd always wanted and had always written off as a silly fantasy that was completely unobtainable. She had a child, she had someone that she loved, she had a family of her own. She'd never really allowed herself to dream about it, because it had always seemed like if she imagined it, she'd just be setting herself up for failure. She swore as their moment was interrupted by her phone ringing, and she angrily plucked it off of her belt, frown deepening as she saw Frost's number pop up. "Yeah?" She muttered into the phone, hating the distraction. She nodded as he muttered something about the customs manifests, about seeing if there were any odd shipments made on certain dates, and she scrambled to find the first pencil and paper she could, settling on the scrap that was in her pocket and a pen handed to her thoughtfully by Maura, jotting down the dates in question before hanging up.

She was really starting to hate her job. Getting in the way of what had started as such a promising makeout session. She frowned as she flipped the scrap over, realizing that it was what Father BJ had asked her to look up when she got home. She thought that smartphones had somewhat spoiled her. Once upon a time, presented with a bible verse to look up, she would have actually have had to track down a bible. Technology, on the other hand, allowed her to simply google the passage in question, and she couldn't help but laugh. "Old bastard still has a sense of humor." She muttered to herself, handing over both the note telling her what passage to look up and the results for said passage.

She could feel more than hear Maura's answering chuckle, and she found herself grinning in spite of herself. Of course, Father BJ would tell her to go look up the verse that stated simply _Let her breasts satisfy you at all times, and be thou ravished by her always. _She found herself glancing down at the ample chest barely contained in a soft sweater as she pulled Maura close to her again. It would defintiely be easier to be satisfied by _those_ at all times than it would be to never take the lord's name in vain.


	31. Chapter 31

A/N don't think of this as the other shoe dropping...more like dangling by a fraying shoelace.

* * *

She had been pouring over the customs manifests, discovering that Frost had, in fact, stumbled upon something, although by the time she pieced together the connection it was far too late to interrupt him from whatever video game the man was no doubt wrapped up in. Maura had long since retreated upstairs, heading up as soon as Kit started fussing, and she looked up at the clock to find that somehow four solid hours had ticked by. She sighed, running a hand over her face and heading upstairs herself, slipping into her pajamas as quietly as possible, before slipping into bed.

Deciding to go with her _why the hell not_ approach that had done her well earlier that evening, she wrapped her arm around a trim waist, pulling Maura close to her, and dropping a kiss to a temple, before she felt the body in her arms stiffen slightly. "Maur?" She questioned, leaning in for another kiss only to find a finger pushed against her lips.

"Jane – what do you mean with this?"

"What do you mean?"

"_This._" Maura shifted in her arms to face her, and she could feel hazel eyes searching hers for something. "Two days ago you walk out of here, and now – this."

"I – I can stop, if you don't like it." There was a moment where she felt an icy tendril of fear wrap around her. Had she pushed too far? Crossed a line that wasn't meant to be crossed? Did Maura just see them as friends who got stuck together with this whole kid raising business?

"I didn't say I didn't like it, but _why?" _She paused for a long moment, trying to find words.

"Because you were right. Kit's grown attached to us. I'm an idiot for trying to avoid growing attached to him. I realized that I _want_ to do this. And I want to do this with you. Lord knows I can't do it alone." She felt Maura relax slightly against her.

"You're serious about this?"

"I know, I was a bit – impulsive the other night. I just sort of panicked. I'm scared shitless of this, Maura. I really am. But I was even more afraid when I realized that there was a chance of losing all this before I had a chance to come around and get used to it." She felt a gentle brush of lips against her chin.

"What are you afraid of?"

"Everything. You're so good with him. It's like you were made to do all this, and I'm just – _there._ I'm afraid that the second I get attatched to him, someone else is going to come in and stake their claim. I'm afraid that by the time he gets old enough to know anything, he's going to want nothing to do with me. I'm afraid I'm going to drop him on his damn head every time I hold him. I'm not designed for this whole – motherhood crap." She wasn't quite sure why she was being so open, so candid, but she had a feeling that if she decided to clam up now that she'd be risking something much worse. Besides, this was Maura. Wasn't she just telling Father Benjamin that she loved this woman? Wasn't this what love was?

"So why are you doing this?" She paused for a moment before she heard the challenge in the words.

"Because I don't want to live without it. I may not be designed for this, but dammit, I – don't mind it. I – I tried, I really did, to imagine what the hell my life would have been like right now if it wasn't for Lydia dropping her kid on the doorstep, and I _can't._ It's like this whole mess has become so damn normal I can't imagine anything else. And I kinda don't want to. I'm afraid – damn am I afraid of all this and what all of it means, and what's going to happen from here, but I want to see this through." She found herself staring at some unfixed point in the ceiling, not trusting herself to look at Maura.

"And this, us?"

"Honestly? I – meant what I said earlier. I just – it felt _right._ I don't – I don't even know what this is. Just that – I don't know. Just like, anything I could say wouldn't be enough to y'know, express things." There was a quiet pause between them, and it was only the slightly uneven breathing next to her that let her know that Maura was every bit as awake as she was. "So why are you doing this?" She turned the previous question around. "I mean, you just sorta – you're the one that's _good_ at this. You don't need to be, but you are. It's like, this kid got dropped on you just as much as he got dropped on me, and you took to it like a duck to water." She rolled the thought around in her mind for a long moment. What did it mean, that Maura had just sort of accepted this kid without a second thought, and she'd fought so hard against it? She'd been so wrapped up in her own concerns with the kid, she hadn't even thought twice about what Maura had been thinking about the whole situation.

"I suppose a large part of it was the timing. After everything with Dennis – I couldn't even fathom the idea of a child being subjected to the same system that created – _that._ And the longer Christopher was here, the more I realized how much I never got to experience in life. I had a career that I enjoyed, accomplishments I could be proud of, but this past year, it's just seemed as though everything was turned upside down. Between everything with my biological parents, I -"

"What?" She pressed when the sentence trailed off abruptly.

"I've never believe in fate, or destiny, or predertiminism, but Christopher entering my life when he did – I doubt I would have reacted the same had the last year not been what it was."

"It has been an – _interesting_ past few months."

"It feels as though everything that happened since -" There was another pause, "Well, since your last birthday had been so completely out of my control. This has been the first thing that has made sense."

"This makes sense to you?"

"More than fighting with you has, more than discovering my biological mother only to push her away has, more than delusional bread men, or serial killers, or – anything really. This is the most _normal_ thing I've had in my life –" There was another pause, and she said nothing, simply letting her thumb trail soothing circles along Maura's shoulder. "My life has never really been _normal_. Not by common metrics."

"And that's what makes you, you. Look, Maur, I've given up on my life being _normal_ a long time ago. If my life were normal, I'd probably be like -" She paused, trying to remember what her childhood dreams had been, when she was still full of the bald-faced lie of being able to do anything she wanted. "Shit, I don't even know what normal _is_ anymore. It's been so long since my life made sense that-" She found her hands flexing, trying to work out the dull ache that had settled into them. "I don't care if it makes sense. I really couldn't give a flying fuck if it's normal, or whatever. I just know that earlier when I did this-" She leaned in for another chaste kiss, "It felt _right._ Like picking a lock – like, before, there were enough pins in place that the cylinder could turn and the door would open, but things were always forced. Like if you pushed just a little too hard everything would break." She simply god a nod in response to her convoluted metaphor. "I don't even know what this is, what this means, but I-"

Whatever she was going to say was silenced by the gentle application of lips to hers. She found herself giving a contended smile, pulling Maura closer to her with one arm and pulling the comforter up to their chins with the other, letting them gently drift off to sleep.


	32. Chapter 32

The next morning dawned, and even without the alarm set, she still found herself waking somewhere near the ass-crack of dawn, wondering how the hell she'd slipped so easily into a _routine._ She really, truly wanted to hate the word. But she still found herself gently extricating her way free from where Maura had an arm around her waist and beginning what had become a practiced morning dance of kid and coffee. How the hell she'd gotten so good at this, she didn't even want to know. Just somewhere along the way, it had become second nature to her, and she really, really wanted to hate that too. But she couldn't.

She wondered what it was that had her fighting so hard against this for so long. He really was loveable, outside of the whole crying thing. It was just – it _meant_ something. This whole thing, this actually deciding to dive right into the shallow end, it meant that she actually had to stop being selfish. She wasn't the only one she had to worry about anymore. And she wasn't quite sure she knew how to do that. She'd spent so long proving herself as independent, as not actually _needing_ anyone, of being able to take anything that life threw her way and keep going, that she didn't quite know _how_ to put someone – especially not someone who couldn't even feed himself first.

She frowned slightly, wondering how the hell this had just become her life. It wasn't so much Kit himself, but everything that he represented that she disliked. After all, wasn't that the one thing that proved that someone was a proper adult? Doing the whole settling down and having kids thing? She paused, realizing that having kids in no way made someone an adult. She saw enough terrible teen parents out there to know that. But doing the whole, loving, stable environment – that was definitely a grown up thing. And she'd spent so long trying to hang on to the idea that she still had decades in front of her to find the right person to settle down with, that to have the fact that she was thirty six years old, hadn't gone a proper date in over a year, and had pretty much married herself to the job suddenly slammed onto her – she was allowed to have a brief freakout, wasn't she?

Maura's appearance in the kitchen stopped her maudlin train of thought in its tracks. She'd gotten used to seeing a decaffeinated Dr. Isles, but it never stopped being enjoyable. Even a near-perfect woman had flaws, and the fact that this particular nearly-perfect needed coffee before being fully functional was something that she found – well, adorable. She found an easy smile settling on her face as she leaned in for a quick peck, slightly unsure if things were still – well, _right. _She got a small smile in return, although there was something still lingering in the air between them. It wasn't quite tension, but she wasn't quite sure what, exactly, it was.

But she found, as they settled into a lazy Sunday of -well, nothing really, that there was something that had definitely shifted between them. She tried to think of an appropriate metaphor, but she'd never been good with those. This was just – things were different, but not in a bad way. She didn't feel as though she had to bite back any thoughts about simply wanting to take comfort in a physical touch. They traded kisses back and forth as though it was something they'd done for years, chaste gestures, yes, but still there, they dozed on the couch together, they did everything that she remembered her parents doing on lazy weekend days while she and Frankie and Tommy had played. There was something else that ran beneath it, and it niggled at her, but she didn't want to pry or dig, not when everything still felt so right.

It was somewhere after lunch that her contentedness was interrupted. "I think I found your Christmas Card photograph." She groaned as her mother barged through the back door, frowning as she reluctantly sat up from where her head was resting on Maura's thigh, Kit sitting up braced against her chest while Maura had been flipping through some picture book or another, the gentle soothing tones putting both her and the kid to sleep.

"Ma, it's not even Thanksgiving, how could you have-" There was a phone shoved in her face, and she found her eyes growing wide at the sight. She could _feel_ Maura grinning against her. "Ma, no. We're not going to use that as our Christmas photo." She could feel her cheeks glowing red at the picture, which had to have been taken earlier that morning when the three of them had been dozing on the couch. She'd been propped up with a pillow in the corner of the couch, Maura was propped up on her, nestled between her legs, blonde head nestled into the crook of her neck, and her hands were intertwined with Maura's, holding Kit close to the ME's chest. There was a tense moment when she was sure Maura would side with her mother before a slight shake of the head occurred.

"Jane's right. You and Frankie are family as well, it wouldn't be right to send out a holiday greeting card without everyone there."

"But this is your first christmas together as a _family._" she found her eyes snapping to her mother with a decidedly cold look.

"A what?" It was one thing for _her_ to admit that she'd finally found the family she hadn't realized she'd so badly wanted. It was another thing entirely for others to comment on it.

"A – Maura, can you give Janie and I a moment?" She really hated the easy way that Maura and the kid disappeared towards the kitchen. "What are you so embarrassed of? Maura is a beautiful woman, and the two of you are so cute-"

"Wait, what?!"

"I'm your mother. Something happened this weekend to make you finally see the forest for the trees," She was fairly sure she was gaping openly at her mother, who was merely giving her a pointed glare. "You don't just go from the way things were to looking so adorable together without _something_ happening." She supposed she shouldn't have been surprised that her mother found things acceptible between them. After all, Father Benjamin had said that Angela had gone to him after discovering that she'd _had_ a girlfriend before, and she was sure that the priest would have given her a heads-up if her mother had truly objected to such things.

"Ma – I don't even know what all this is. I just know that no matter what, I wanna do right by Kit, and I don't want to do this without Maura and that's all that matters." She felt like she was withering under her mother's gaze.

"If you dare do anything to break her heart, I swear I'll throttle you myself." Her eyebrows raised.

"Ma, I think you have the parties involved in the conversation mixed up. Aren't you supposed to be giving the 'you hurt my daughter I'll kill you' speech to the person that's actually, y'know-" Her mother simply crossed her arms across a chest, glaring at her. "Ok, ok, I get it. You like her better."

"I do not! I just know _you_ have a bad habit of being too proud to admit when you're wrong. Look at how long it took you to get this far! This isn't just about you anymore, Janie."

"Gee, I hadn't noticed the five month old that sorta lives here too."

"Could you cut out the sarcasm for five minutes? I'm trying to have a serious conversation here."

"Ma, I get it. Really. Look – I don't know what the hell is going on anymore, I just know that this – feels right. I don't even know what it is, just that I-"

"Finally saw the forest for the trees." Her eyes widened as she stared at her mother. "What? When was the last time I tried to set you up with some man? I knew the two of you would get over whatever silly little reservations you two had about this."

"What did you call that little stunt with Casey?"

"You were so sad when you found out that he came back without telling you – I just – I've been wrong before, you know. A mother's intuition isn't always a hundred percent. I just wanted to see you happy. If that was with Charles, so be it. I just didn't want you to make it to forty without ever knowing what love was like."

"Gee, thanks." It was funny, Casey had reappeared in her life only a few months prior, but it felt as though it was a lifetime ago. She'd thought she'd had feelings for him, but now, looking back on it, she had to question just how deep those feelings actually were. She'd been more upset at the fact that he hadn't even attempted a breakup, just showed back up without telling her and tried to pretend she didn't exist. It would have been one thing if he'd even tried to say that he was in no state for a relationship. Hell, she would have taken a breakup via text message better. She'd thought she'd loved him, but she couldn't even begin to imagine if she'd wound up going through the last eighteen weeks with him at her side instead of Maura.

"Janie, sweetie, I love you no matter what. And I love Maura, and I love Christopher just as much as I love you. I was starting to think that you and Maura were the most stubborn people on the planet, refusing to admit what the rest of us saw."

"Ma!" The cell phone picture was waved in her face again.

"Tell me that that is not the most adorable picture of a family ever."

"Ma, if you even try to give that out as a Christmas card, everyone you send it to is going to wind up with diabetes. No. Christmas cards are supposed to be a little less-" She grinned thankfully as she felt two strong thumbs digging into her shoulderblades, grinning up at where Maura was standing behind her, Kit being handed off to her mother. She relaxed back into the warm touch where it was gently working out the knots between her muscles.

"I agree. A holiday photo should look a little more – put together than that."

"You just don't like it because you're not wearing designer whatever." She gave a little hum of contended pleasure as Maura found a particularly stubborn knot and worked it free.

"Mmm. Maybe." She looked up to find Maura looking back down at her, both of them wearing matching grins.

"Tell you girls what. Why don't I take Christopher for the evening, you ladies go out and enjoy yourselves." She looked at her mother, trying to figure out just what the Rizzoli matriarch was planning before giving up. She found Maura nodding her assent as well, and watched her mother bustle off with Kit and the diaper bag back to the guest house.

"Would you hate me if I said all I want to do is lay right here and not move for the next twenty four hours?" She sprawled out on the couch slightly, allowing Maura room to come in and curl against her. "This is the first time in five months where I haven't had to worry about the kid, or the case, or anything. I just wanna lay right here and watch terrible television with you." She could feel Maura's smile as the woman curled into her, a face buried against her neck.

"That would depend on your definition of terrible television."

"The Jets kick off at four, that's guaranteed to be pretty terrible." She found herself wrapping one hand in Maura's hair, simply content for the closeness. She rolled them slightly so that she was mostly underneath the other woman, leaning up for a gentle kiss. "If you want to go _out_ out, we can. I mean, Ma's offered to take the kid for the evening, we could if we wanted to."

"Where?"

"Where do you want to go?" There was a long pause before she felt Maura snuggle closer to her.

"Honestly, I can't think of anywhere."

"I know the feeling. Like, the Robber's out because if we go there we're likely going to either wind up drunk or stuck talking about work stuff, or drunk _and_ talking about work stuff. There's no way I'm spending ten bucks to go see a movie I'm just going to fall asleep during-"

"Any of the restauraunts I would usually suggest require getting far too dressed up than what I feel like wearing right now." She quirked an eyebrow, surprised.

"You? Don't feel like getting dressed up for something?" She could feel the faint smile against her.

"Not enough to go to somewhere like _La Belle Trouc_." She couldn't help the laugh that bubbled forth.

"Oh god, we've become _parents._ Like, spending an evening in just to relax even though we have someone willing to watch the kid just because we're too exhausted to go out." She got another one of _those _ looks that were starting to make her heart melt every time she saw them. "We're not supposed to be the grown ups." Her pout was brushed away with Maura's lips on hers. "I'm not supposed to not mind this. I'm supposed to be all pissed off that we're not going to the bar, and that we don't feel like going to the bar." She leaned up, exchanging another slow, languid kiss. "Why am I not pissed off?" There was a faint smile on Maura's lips as they connected with hers again.

"Priorities." She pouted again, only to have it kissed away again.

"Stupid little things, priorities. Can't we like, invent a magical time machine so we can skip from all this crying and teething and diaper changing BS until he gets to like the, T-Ball and can tell us what he wants stage?" There was a slight chuckle above her, and she shifted them again, until she was comfortably sprawled beneath Maura.

"You know you love it." She gave a noncommital grunt. of something, leaning up for another kiss.

"Only reason I'm here." there was another one of those looks shot her way and she grinned. "So, bad TV, takeout, and an early night?" She felt an answering hum against her, and she smiled, reaching up to drape the two of them with the blanket on the back of the couch. "I agree. Later."


	33. Chapter 33

A/N and yes, we finally get to the sex. Not really enough to cross this into a full M rating, since M to me translates into a hard-R, and this is more like, well, they show tits in PG-13 movies these days.

* * *

It was odd, how _comfortable_ it had been over the course of the evening. Something almost imperceptible had changed, shifted between them. She no longer had to censor herself, no longer had to second guess her desire to pull Maura's head onto her lap and gently run her hands through soft blonde hair while watching some documentary about the black plague that _she_ was even finding interesting. They were just the same as always, but with something _more_ there. There was still an undercurrent of tension that niggled at her, and she tried to put a finger on it at various points in the night. While they were physically closer than they had been, well, ever, there was something that she couldn't quite put her finger on, some tenuous thread of something that had the hair on the back of her neck standing upright when she took a moment to try and decipher it, but that got shrugged off in favor of becoming comfortable with all the things that she had always thought about in deep dark corners of her mind and tried to pretend had never once entered her brain.

The twenty minute makeout session that had gotten interrupted by the arrival of their dinner had been pleasant too. It wasn't even an attempt to _do_ anything. It had started with a kiss, which had turned into a kiss back, which had turned into the two of them laying on the couch, with no movement made to turn it into something more. She'd simply enjoyed learning that there was a spot right beneath Maura's jaw that made the woman whimper, enjoyed the way that they seemed to fit together perfectly. It hadn't even been particularly _arousing_ but it hadn't been intended to. Sure, there was a thrum of something, but it hadn't been intended to progress anywhere. It was simply getting aquainted with each other in a more physical way than they had known each other. It was simply letting her admire another woman when she'd spent so long trying to pretend as though she never had these thoughts.

She had meant what she said when she had spoken with Father Benjamin the night before. She _didn't_ care if they ever moved beyond chaste kisses. She had never been a particularly sexual creature, it was simply part of a relationship. It wasn't _not _pleasurable, but she very rarely found herself actually sexually frustrated. She was content simply to have Maura beside her. And she had to admit, last night, when she allowed herself to actually fall asleep curled around Maura the most comfortable bed in the world had become ten times moreso when she was using Maura's shoulder as a pillow.

Which was why the sudden flash of desire that took her when she looked up from her spot on the bed as Maura was getting changed took her completely by surprise. "You actually own sweatpants." The closest thing she'd seen to Maura in sweats was yoga pants. "Real, honest to god, drawstring-waisted, elastic-cuffed sweatpants."

"Yes, well, _someone_ skipped out on laundry duty." She grinned, taking in the sight of Maura in a pair of pink sweats and a matching camisole. It was such a deliciously casual look, one she wasn't accustomed to seeing, but one that she could definitely get used to. "What?" She hadn't been aware that she'd been staring – leering – really, at the sight. She'd spent so long convincing herself that she _wasn't_ attracted to her best friend that actually allowing herself to consider this was slightly overwhelming.

"You look-" She found her mouth was suddenly dry as she drank in the vision in front of her.

"You like what you see, detective?" There was that smirk, and the way that Maura sashayed to the other side of the bed had to be intentional. She hadn't even really thought about a more physical side of this relationship until now, but when faced with the sight of Maura, wearing no makeup, hair pulled back in a loose, messy ponytail, in actual, proper, sweats, teasing like this? It was definitely turning her on.

"Oh god, yes." She rolled on top of Maura, trapping the woman with a passionate kiss. "You've got this sexy sorority girl thing going on." She leaned in for another long kiss, before pulling back for a moment. "You're uh – is this -" They hadn't talked about this at all, she had no clue if Maura had any intentions of things progressing further, and she suddenly found herself pulling away in case she was crossing a line by going from necking on the couch to a kiss that left no doubt as to what she wanted. Before she could pull away entirely, she was on her back with amazing alacrity.

"Does this answer your question?" Maura asked after ravaging her mouth with another kiss. God, where had that woman learned _that_ trick? It was odd, she mused in the moment that she got to breathe, that if you had asked her what she thought their first time would be like six months ago she'd have likely smacked the shit out of you. But now that they were _having_ a first time, it was better than anything she could have ever imagined.

And they hadn't even _done_ anything yet. Maura had wrapped her hands around each of her wrists, pressing her down further into the bed, and she groaned, trying to arch up and feel some sort of contact other than where Maura's lips were gently slipping around hers. She was writhing, body undulating in waves as she cursed Maura's years of yoga making her an expert at the plank position, the only points of contact between them their lips and where Maura was holding her to the bed. Holy shit this woman was going to be the death of her. "Jesus christ, Maur. You keep this up and-" She moaned, outright moaned as Maura released her, slowly pressing their bodies together.

It felt as though every single nerve ending in her body had been set aflame. "And, detective? And what?" She groaned as a thigh pressed against her, grinding down, seeking some sort of friction and hadn't doubted Maura's ability to be a fucking minx but this was something else entirely. This was something so unbearably sexy she wondered how she'd ever been able to ignore it before. She'd always thought Maura was gorgeous, but had always just sort of written it off as the same as being able to admire a work of art.

But now that she had that gorgeous body leaning over top of her, two deft hands working up her shirt, and lips on her neck? That went beyond gorgeous into purely decadent. She gasped as there was a sudden sharp nip to her neck, at the same time that she felt two hands cup her breasts through her bra, squeezing gently. She couldn't take this anymore. She had to do – something, and she found herself sitting upright, pausing just long enough to spin them again, giving her some semblance of control, allow her to catch her breath. "If you kept doing what you were doing-" It was her turn to nibble at a neck, taking her time to bite down just a the end of a collarbone right where it met shoulder, and then laving her tongue over the bite gently for what seemed like an eternity, knowing full well it was going to leave a mark. "This would have been over before I even got you out of this ridiculously sexy outfit." She liked the shiver that her words got, and she ran her hand along the hem of the camisole, inching it up gently, grinning as Maura's arms lifted for her to pull it off without her even needing to ask. Her tongue darted out to lick her lips before she even realized it when she realized that there was nothing under the thin pink top.

"You really like it?" She nodded, running one hand over the soft fleece that encased a thigh.

"I love seeing you so – casual. You've got this cute little innocent college girl thing going on that just makes me want to ravish you." She wasn't going to admit that being on top helped make her feel not so nervous about this. She was definitely confident that she wanted to be doing this with Maura, but the fact that she had never done this before with a woman – at least being in control made her feel less unsure of her movements.

"Ravish?" She hummed her agreement as she wrapped her lips around one taught nipple, enjoying the way that the body beneath her arched into the touch. "What makes you think I'm not going to ravish you?" The question was interspersed with little gasps and _oh_s of pleasure as she turned her attention to the other breast. She kissed her way back up the column of a neck, letting her hand drift down to cup Maura, surprised to find the fleece damp. God, they hadn't even made it past second base, and she knew she was just as wet, if not more so.

"But the bible told me to ravish you." She made a mental note of the way that whispering dirty things in Maura's ear got the woman to positively writhe. Oh, that was definitely something to remember for later. She found herself suddenly on her back again, and she found herself very much thinking she should start going to pilates with Maura if it meant not losing the upper hand so easily.

"Actually, I believe the quote was be ravished by her." She didn't even try to hide the moan as a hand pulled down her shorts, two fingers trailing across the little bit of dripping lace that still covered her. She let her tank top be pulled over her head and she could see hazel eyes turn almost black with lust as Maura took in her outfit.

"I was thinking of you when I bought this yesterday. I know you like it when I match." there was a near growl as lips descended on hers once again, and she made another mental note to remember that matching underwear was definitely one of Maura's turn ons. She found herself bucking upwards, trying to find some, any friction to take care of the aching throb between her legs. She'd never been this turned on by foreplay before in her life. They hadn't even gotten naked yet and she was already wetter than she had been with any of her exes. She rolled them again, enjoying the surprised squeak she got in response, moving to leave a matching mark on the other side of slender neck to the one already forming. "And I thought I was the bossy one. The bossy one gets to do the ravishing." There was an adorable pout forming on Maura's face and she couldn't help herself, she leaned in, forehead to forehead, laughing.

"And what's so funny, Detective Bossypants?" She grinned, leaning in for an easy, gentle kiss, more about tenderness than passion.

"We could just ravish each other. Unless you wanna continue this naked wrestling thing. It's kinda hot." There was a breathy laugh as they kissed again.

"I think we're a little too clothed for _naked_ wrestling." She grinned, and sat upright, easily removing her bra, watching as Maura stripped off the sweats, as much as she wanted them to stay on, it did make the whole sex thing decidedly more difficult. Another mental note was made to see if crotchless sweatpants were a thing. They had to be, somewhere, right? And then any thought at all was stopped as she realized that she was drinking in the sight of Maura, naked, next to her. And it was glorious. She really, really, couldn't for the life of her, figure out why she'd spent so long content to have this woman in her life purely platonically when _this_ could have been going on all this time.

She leaned in for another slow kiss, skimming one palm along the smooth planes of Maura's body. She could definitely see what Frost had meant by the _s-curve_ being the sexiest part of someone. The dip from a trim waist rising into strong hips that she could feel rocking towards her, it was intoxicating to feel beneath her. "Mm..why didn't we start doing this sooner?" She laid a gentle trail of kisses from one shoulder to the other, gasping when she felt a sudden pinch and tug at one of her nipples.

"Did you ever consider it?"

"Kinda? I mean, there was the odd-" She groaned as teeth found _that_ spot on her neck that seemed hardwired to her clit, "Thought here and there but I guess I kinda – friend-zone'd you."

"Friend zone?" She wasn't sure how they were managing to carry on a conversation as she moved down to kiss her way up starting with Maura's ankles, wanting to prolong this and get to know how every inch of flesh responded to her touch.

"You know, you start thinking of someone as a friend, and because they're a friend, you don't really consider y'know – this." She was surprised to hear a slight gasp of pleasure as she nipped at an ankle, and curiously wrapped her hand around the joint as she kissed up a leg, holding the limb in place and smirking slightly at the slight change in breathing, the panting increasing when she gripped the other one, holding Maura in place. That was _defintiely_ something to keep in mind for later.

"What changed?" She paused for a second, before trailing a long wet kiss along the side of one knee, as she realized just what exactly _had_ been the thing to push her over the edge. Oh, she'd always been attracted to Maura, always found the woman fascinating, gorgeous, someone that she could spend every day for the rest of her life with and never get bored of. But the thing that had finally pushed her over the edge, to being able to admit that? The thing that got her to get over any sily little hangups she'd had and simply love the woman that was lying there with her? She knew exactly what had changed, and for the first time, she was damn happy about it.

"I realized that you-" She moved back up to lay next to Maura, kissing her soundly, "Are so-" She took a bold move in letting two fingers gently slight through the absolutely drencehd folds, "Much more," She circled around Maura's clit, reveling in the load moan of pleasure she got in response, "Than a friend." She plunged two fingers deep inside, and grinned at the shuddering gasp she got in response.

She hadn't expected Maura to respond quite so directly, and the sudden feeling of fullness as Maura's hand snaked between them, repeating the same action caused her hips to jerk violently forward. They took a moment to position themselves, facing each other, legs sprawled in every which way, giving each of them unfettered access to the other. This wasn't nearly as awkward as she'd thought it would be. She wasn't exactly clueless as to what was involved with this whole lesbian sex thing, she'd read novels, she'd seen porn, but she'd always thought it would be more complicated than it was. They had set an easy rhythm, not too fast, not too slow, not too hard or too deep, but just enough to drive her closer and closer to the edge with every stroke.

It was amazing how she could _feel_ Maura growing closer and closer as well. They didn't even need to talk. There was no need for the _oh god I'm close _or _almosts_. She could feel the body next to her tensing, coiling, could feel the velvet warmth that was surrounding her hand starting to tense and tighten, and she remembered something that Maura had said about kegel exercises and how much they could improve and postpone orgasm. She could hear the changes in the little gasps and the repeated _oh_ of pleasure that escaped from those perfect lips every time she thrust in, and found similar noises being dragged forth from her. She'd never been very vocal in bed before, but she couldn't help the ragged moans that were becoming more and more frequent as she could feel everything building up inside of her. She leaned forward for another kiss, an easy contended grin spreading across her face. This wasn't earth-shattering, mind blowing, heart stopping sex. This was something else entirely.

"If you no longer view me as a friend," She groaned, wondering how on earth the other woman was still capable of any form of coherent thought, "What am I then?"

"The mother of-" She gasped as Maura shifted her hand ever so slightly so that there was a palm rubbing with delicious friction against her clit, and she could feel everything inside of her tense, "Of our child." There was another sharp thrust and the world around her constricted to one fine point of pleasure. She could feel muscles tightening around her fingers, almost painfully so, and she wasn't quite sure whose ragged gasping moan was whose, all she knew was that she was suddenly floating in a blissful, boneless world of pleasure.

She couldn't help the wide grin that broke across her face as she rolled onto her back, pulling Maura with her, encouraging the woman to fall asleep in her arms, resting on top of her.


	34. Chapter 34

A/N so the other shoe has yet to drop completely. but don't expect everything to be completely wine and roses. And maybe I should stop working my other fic if I'm making that reference...but there are a few chapters of fluff in the future. This is another bordering-if-not-quite-there-on-M chapter, so those with weak constitutions, peek through your fingers, cause there is a lot of sorta plot relevent shit in here

* * *

She woke sometime later to find their positions had shifted as they slept, so that she spooning against Maura, the other woman wrapped tightly in her arms. She could tell by the breathing that Maura was awake, and she tightened her embrace to let her wakefulness be known. "Jane, what are we going to tell the clerk tomorrow? When we go to take care of everything with Christopher?" She kissed the shoulderblade that was perfectly in front of her lips.

"He's ours. He followed us home, we're going to keep him."

"Jane-" She leaned over to give Maura a long, tender kiss, unsure of what the tone of voice was trying to convey.

"We go in there and tell them that he is Christopher Isles-Rizzoli, and all we need is the paperwork proving that." Maura shifted in her arms to face her, and she couldn't help the smile that broke out. There was _that_ look again, and she found herself suddenly kicking herself for seeing it so often for the last four months and never realizing it for what it was. That was far more than the _pondering potential possibilities_ look. It was a look of someone who had found the one thing that they want in life more than anything. How had she been blind enough to miss it this long?

"Jane-" There was a note of trepidation in Maura's voice, and she couldn't help but wonder what was causing it.

"Hmm?" She asked, more of a sound than a question as her lips were otherwise occupied tracing a gentle trail down a neck.

"This isn't just – this isn't just like playing house. Tomorrow, what happens in the registrar's office – it affects all of us. This – makes it real. Permanent." This was it, the other shoe dropping. She supposed it had to come eventually. Maura had just sort of taken the whole shift from friends who had thrown their lots in together to take care of the kid to lovers, to a _family_ in stride, and that this conversation was inevitable. It didn't mean she liked it though. She wasn't even sure what all this was. The only things she was sure of were that she didn't want to be with anyone else but Maura from here on out, and she wanted to make sure that Kit had the best damn life possible.

"Having second thoughts about being stuck with me for the next eighteen years?" The words were light and teasing, an attempt to hide the sudden icy feeling that settled around her chest.

"No, it's not that at all."

"You think I'm going to get sick of this and leave." There was an almost imperceptible nod as Maura rolled into her, and she wrapped her arm around a tense back, encouraging a head to nuzzzle against her neck. "I'm not going to lie and say that this is what I would've imagined. But now that I have this? You and Kit? Wouldn't trade it for the world. I don't _want_ to give him back to Tommy, or Lydia, or whoever else wants to claim him. He's _ours. _We're the ones that put in – and are going to continue to put in – the blood sweat and tears with this kid. I don't wanna wake up anywhere else than right here, next to you with our son in the next room."

"Jane – I want, so much, to believe that-" She cursed herself for being so damned stupid and afraid of this. Two days ago, she'd stormed out, ready to leave all this behind in favor of shoving Kit at someone else, viewing the boy as nothing more than a disruption to her life. And that had all changed when she found herself facing the possibility of never seeing either Maura or Kit ever again. It sent a jolt of panic through her when she even dared consider the idea.

"Maura – I can't promise anything. You've seen enough to know that. I can't promise that I'll come home safe and sound from every case. I can't promise that I won't do something stupid and piss you off. But I'm going to do everything I can."

"I – I need to know that this isn't just -" She placed a gentle kiss against a temple. "I need to know that this isn't just a knee-twitch response to a traumatic event." She frowned, the source of that undercurrent of tension that had hung around them since she drew Maura into her arms almost thirty-six hours previously and kissed her soundly being made known.

"Knee-jerk. The term is knee-jerk." She laid a gentle kiss to the corner of Maura's mouth, right where dimples formed when the woman smiled. "And it's not."

"But-" Somewhere, she had a feeling that there was a statistic that was about to be quoted to her, some study, some journal somewhere proving that this was too good to be true. And she quite frankly, didn't care if it_ was_ too good to be true. She was happy. That was all she cared about. She cut off any protest with a gentle application of lips to lips.

"I know I was an idiot taking this long to realize it, but I've never, y'know, really thought about _love_ love. And I may be completely wrong about this whole love thing. Maybe it's not. But what I do know is that there I want to wake up next to you every morning, come home to you and Kit every night, and do everything I can to see you two happy. I want to hold you and not let you go. I want to kiss you because there aren't any words to describe how amazing you are with our son. I want to make love with you because I can't think of any other way to make you feel as good as you make me feel." She had no clue where the words were coming from, and she was sure she'd be embarrassed by them come morning, but right now she needed to say them. She _needed_ Maura to know that she'd spent all of the day before realizing that she needed her family in her life like she needed air to breathe.

One night apart from them. That was all it had taken, was one night for her to realize that giving all this up was, quite frankly, the worst idea she could have ever come up with in her life. One night away was enough for her to realize that while she'd always considered the idea of settling down and having a family in the abstract, that now that she had it in the concrete she wasn't going to let it go without a fight. Who cared if this kid hated her? He could hate her all he wanted, and she'd still love him. She reached a hand up to cup a cheek, thumb gently swiping away silent tears. "Jane-" She didn't need the emotion behind her name to be voiced, she could hear it, just in the way that the single syllable fell from Maura's lips. She could hear it, the benediction, the reverence, the _love_, hanging by a tenuous thread. She'd been the fool to have tried to push all this out of her life, and if she spent the next few decades trying to atone for it, so be it.

Because there was no way in hell she was going to give this up. It'd been a long damn time since she'd felt this _at peace. _She was fairly sure she hadn't been so relaxed in the years it'd been since the first time she'd faced Charles Hoyt. "I know." She ran a hand down Maura's torso, pulling her lover as close as possible, so that there wasn't enough space for air between them. "I want to show you just how much the feeling is mutual." She leaned in for a long, tender, kiss, trying to pour her emotions into such a gentle show of affection. She trailed feather light touches of her lips down the graceful column of a neck, from one collarbone to the other, before taking her time to show her appreciation of each perfectly sculpted breast. It was odd, freeing, to be able to appreciate a pair that she'd always known were gorgeous, to show how amazing she thought they were, after trying to lie to herself and pretend that they weren't something to be admired. "I shouldn't have tried so hard to fight this." She said in the moment she pulled away from one breast to lavish attention on the other.

"I should have just admitted that the first time I held him I didn't want to let him go." She drunk in the little gasps and moans of pleasure as though they were a fine wine. She felt two arms wrap around her and she shook her head, gently removing them, and holding two wrists fast two the bed as she rolled on top. "This isn't about me. This is about me showing you that it may have taken me entirely too long to come around to this, but I don't want anything else. I just want you, and Kit, and for us to be one big, happy, family." She worked her way down a quivering stomach, kissing along each line of an oblique. "It's just most people get nine months to prepare for a kid. I freaked. I panicked. I didn't think I was ready for this." She trailed her tongue along the fine line where she could feel, even though she couldn't see, the seperation between abs. "And then I realized that I could have fucked all this up. That I could have lost you or Kit and that – god I was more scared than with Hoyt." She reached her destination, and she gently trailed her tongue through the already wet slit, taking a moment to get used to things.

She may not have done this before, but she had a good idea of what generally felt good. "I don't want to lose this." She said, between gentle swirls of her tongue, feeling Maura's hips buck up into her. "Last night – tonight, I've never felt so _happy. _I was fighting so hard not to love you – either of you, that now that I'm not fighting against this – god, it's like I was wearing cement shoes and dumped in the Charles, and now I'm not." There was a faint whimper somewhere above her, and she gently slipped two fingers inside the warm, wet heat, earning a long moan of pleasure that sounded like a symphony. "I was a fucking idiot, and I don't care if you forgive me for storming out the other night, I don't care if you ever forgive me for spending the last few months trying to not love Kit, I don't care if you ever forgive me for waiting until I thought one of you was dying to come to my senses, I just want to make you two happy from here on out." She wasn't even sure if Maura could hear her, since she was barely breaking free from her task to speak, never bothering to raise her head from where it was.

"Jane-" The wrist that she had released so that she could thrust in time with the same slow, gentle rhythm that she was working her tongue in had come to tangle in her hair, and she felt a gentle tug at her scalp. "Please-" There was another tug and she got the hint, crawling back up the bed, where she barely made it within range before she was being dragged down for a long, forceful kiss. There were two faint wet tracks down each cheek and she slowly kissed them away.

"I love you." She held Maura close as she felt her lover come apart in her arms, laying gentle kisses across every inch she could reach.

"I love you." There was a long tender kiss pressed to her lips, unhurried, unwanting. "And I don't care if it was a bolt of lightning that made you realize your feelings, I just want you, _us, _forever."

"You might change your mind after being stuck with me for the next eighteen years." She grinned, kissing the tip of Maura's nose.

"Mmm, I don't know. I'm sure a few nights on the couch will put you in your place whenever you decide to do something foolish again." She gave a mock pout, laughing slightly.

"Already threatening to banish me to the couch?"

"I do believe that is the stereotypical method of punishment when one party in a relationship does something foolish." She was fairly sure they were both grinning like idiots at each other, and she didn't care in the least.

"We're getting a more comfortable couch then." She gave an easy, tender peck against still-swollen lips. "We should sleep. We do have an important meeting in the morning." She got a contented hum of agreement as Maura snuggled closer and she fell asleep with a happy smile on her face, feeling more relaxed than she could ever remember.


	35. Chapter 35

A/n apologies for how long this took to get out. Real life problems like hurricanes and technical difficulties have made this...difficult.

She found herself standing outside of the municipal building early Monday morning in a state of shock. Had all that just happened? More importantly, had all of that just happened so easily? She'd spent the whole morning with the same sort of dazed expression on her face, not quite sure what was going on around her, answering the questions that Judge Timm had posed to her without even thinking about the answers. She had a vague notion of him trying to trip her up by pointing out that the last time they had met she'd been sort of seeing one of the family court public defenders, but she wasn't quite sure if that was entirely real or not. Nor was she sure if all the utterings of _in all my days_ and _most unusual_ and _extraordinary circumstances_ had been real or not either. In fact, had it not been for the fact that she'd had to sign her name to the few papers that were currently tucked neatly into Maura's purse, she wasn't sure if any of this morning had been real. She found herself standing dumbly on the single step in front of the unassuming building, and she wasn't how many time's Maura had called her name before she snapped to attention, wrapping her arms around the woman and burying her nose in blonde hair.

This was it. This was real. They weren't glorified babysitters anymore. They were parents. Proper parents. With the paperwork to prove it. She had one thing that she'd never thought she'd have. A real, proper family. Someone that she loved, who loved her back. The kid. The dog. All that was missing was a white picket fence around the yard. She kissed the crown of the head she was nuzzled against, feeling the reality of this sink in. She was a mother. She was now not doing this because she felt obligated to her family, she was doing this because she was officially supposed to. This was her son, and she was going to do everything she could to – fuck, _mother_ him. She wasn't even sure what all that entailed, but she knew she wanted to be there. Wanted to kiss away skinned knees, wanted to be there to coach little league. Wanted to protect him from all the evil in the world. Wanted to be able to show him all the wonder and the good. Wanted to love him, and see him happy. And she wanted nothing more than to do all that with the woman in her arms. "It's real. He's ours." The words were quiet, muttered into Maura's hair, and she felt Maura relax against her, leaning back so that she was the one to be holding both of them up. She tightened her grip around a trim waist, feeling a sudden jolt of something that she hadn't been able to place before, but now could.

Love. That sudden desire to hold them close, protect them, be strong for them, be _everything_ for them. She loved Kit. She loved Maura. And she loved that Maura seemed to know the effect that such a simple gesture as leaning back, allowing her to support both of them, would have on her. This was _hers._ This was the woman that she had somehow fallen in love with, and this was _her_ child, and she was beginning to understand why they told people not to piss of mother bears around their cubs, because she was fairly sure she'd tear apart anyone who even thought a malicious thought about Maura or Kit limb from limb barehanded. She'd never put much stock in traditional gender roles, but she couldn't help but feel like a stereotype of a TV dad. Wanting to protect and provide for her family. And do all that while being completely and utterly whipped. "Until someone challenges things, yes."

Maura's words snapped her out of her reverie. Judge Timm hadn't been lying about _extraordinary circumstances_. She knew that if Tommy or Lydia attempted to regain custody the little slips of paper wouldn"t hold up. Kit was theirs, but all of that could come toppling down. "They're not going to." She wasn't quite sure which of them the words were intended to convince more. They walked in silence towards the car, each of them with one hand on the stroller, and one arm wrapped around each other.

"So who's this _Andrew?_" She couldn't help the faint grin at Maura's teasingly jealous tone, and the reality of the judge attempting to trip her up slammed home. That had been real. Everything that had just happened was reality. She had just signed her name to papers saying she had every intention to be a mother to this child. This little boy in the stroller in front of her was _her son_. She shrugged at the question as they walked, grateful for a distraction to keep her from thinking about the odds of her brother or Lydia challenging their rights to Kit.

"One of the public defenders. It was fun while it lasted, but Judge Timm was right, we were bound to not work out."

"What do you mean?"

"He's a public defender. He had to defend monsters. Absolute monsters. He got stuck representing parents in family court and the cases he'd tell me about – the two of us, we both saw so much ugly in the world that we couldn't weigh each other down with that. I couldn't deal with hearing him complain about having to defend people that beat their kids to brain damage any more than he could deal with me complaining about a triple homicide." She frowned. It'd never been a particularly serious relationship, but it had been one of her longer-lasting ones. She was surprised Timm had even remembered her and the time shed spent at the building they were just leaving. "That's one of the reasons I love you. I can talk to you about a case in gory detail and you won't bat an eye, and you get it. But at the same time, you're not coming around and one-upping me with something more horrific."

"I don't know, there's an accidental electrocution ready for release that got Detective Frost to barely make it to the sink in time." She laughed, wrapping an arm around Maura, pulling the other woman close.

"I'm sure it taught him something valuable."

"Yes, I'm sure. Perhaps that home repair can be risky with a blood alcohol content of point three four."

"And that sense of humor is another." There was a slightly confused look, and she tightened the arm around Maura's waist."Reason I love you."

"How many are there?"

"Four hundred and thirty six." It was a number pulled entirely out of her ass, but she knew if pressed she could certainly find that many. There was an eyebrow quirked in her direction and she leaned in to steal a kiss. "Make that four hundred and thirty seven."

"Who knew you were such a romantic?"

"You tell anyone and I'll kill you myself." She grinned despite herself, leaning in for another kiss.

"You wouldn't even make me sleep on the couch." She wasn't sure what it was that had changed over the weekend, but she was sure she never wanted it to change back.

"Why do you always have to be right?" There may have been a sappy grin on her face as they traded lazy kisses as they walked, but she didn't care. She'd already checked- there weren't any CCTV's to catch her at it..

Their moment wasn't long to last though. "Oh dear christ, I'm ruined for life." She glowered at the familiar voice.

"Is everything all right?" She rolled her eyes at Maura's question.

"No! You don't know how scarring it is to see my sister, to see _Jane_ being all – sweet. This is my sister we're talking about. She doesn't do sweet."

"Thanks, Frankie."

"I mean it, Janie. You owe me for the therapy for this. I knew this kid changed you and all but I didn't think it'd make you all _sappy_ and shit."

"Fuck you, Frankie." She muttered, the words pressed against Maura's lips as she leaned in for another lingering kiss, one armed wrapped around her love, the other pointing towards her brother, middle finger proudly extended.

"Actually, I'm here because of your case. Your phone's off, Ma said you'd be here. Barry thinks he might've found something on Meacham's laptop. She grinned, pausing for her eyes to meet Maura's.

"That's great, Frankie. I'll catch a ride in with you." her eyes stayed locked with hazel ones as she leaned in for another kiss. "I'll see you later. Love you." The words were a quiet murmur before she pulled away, pausing to drop a kiss on the top of Kit's head before leaning in for one last quick peck to Maura's cheek before walking to where Frankie was, ignoring his mimed gagging.

"Who are you and what have you done with my sister?"

"What?!" She questioned, wondering what had her brother so worked up.

"Did you see what I just saw? Janie, it was like, gag me with a spoon, Nicholas Sparks movie, cute. It's sickening, is what it is." she felt her stomach clench slightly at he brother's choice of words.

"I'm not allowed to have a quiet moment with my family?"

"Gah, a quiet moment is like – I can't even do this."

"What's got your panties in a bunch, Frankie?"

"You're my sister!"

"Yeah, and?" She could feel an icy tendril of anxiety snaking its way up her spine at the way Frankie was currently dismissing her new change in relationship status.

"You're not supposed to be _cute._ You're supposed to be my badass big sister, not this little schmoopy thing that could make the Grinch's heart melt."

"I'm not cute."

"Did you see that picture Ma got of you three? I''m telling you, it's sickening. It's not normal."

"What's not?" she took a deep breath, trying to tell herself she was being irrational. Her very traditional very catholic mother took the fact that she'd woken up and snelled the roses and realized that she'd been very much in love with her best friend for a very long time and had simply been too thick to notice it in stride. Her brother would as well, right?

"Looking so damn _in love_. If you two are going to be all fairytale romance, at least have the decency to look like all the other parents you see around you. Y'know, all long suffering and shit. Walking around and giggling and being all smoochy smoochy, c'mon sis, you're almost forty, leave that shit to like, twelve year olds at the mall." She gave a slight sigh of relief as she realized that all of Frankie's issues seemed to stem from the fact that she'd allowed herself to look like a lovesick idiot. She met his gaze when he looked at her at a red light and he laughed. "Wait, did you really think I've got an issue with the fact that its you and Maura? I mean, I have no clue what she sees in you, but she's the best thing to happen to you, sis. Just - I don't wanna see you kissing _anyone._ Kid or not,let me pretend you're still badass."

"I _am_ still badass." She could feel her brother's _really?_ Look trained on her. "I am! _you_ try having a five month old, an absolute bastard of a case, and you try not making the most of any free moments." She was fairly sure her arms were crossed and she was pouting but she didn't care. "So what did Frost say he found?" She questioned, deciding if she wasn't going to win the _I am too a badass_ fight then she could, at least change the subject.


	36. Chapter 36

A/N apologies on the delays with this. Life has been busy, and fluff has not been something I've been in the mood to write of late. But I just was kidnapped, removed from drugs and dragged to the frozen tundra and decided to spend what time I wasn't sleeping in the car writing this on the phone. There is a thanksgiving chapter that I promise will be up either before the end of the holiday, or at the very latest, flying back home to Jersey first thing Friday morning.

"Hey, what d'ya got?" By the time she walked into the precinct she was all business, focused entirely on the case. So far all they had were four dead bodies and a collection of suspicious shipments. Hopefully Frost had something more.

"There's still nothing from what she was working on, but she did back up her phone address book to her computer. Look at this." She watched as Frost pulled out a handful of numbers.

"That's Davison's number." She pointed out the one labled as _Matlock_.

"And that's Cafferty's" Cooper pointed out the one next to the name _Johnny Rotten_.

"Which leaves Malcolm, Steve, Paul, Sid and Nancy. Great." She frowned as she looked at the numbers in question, trying to piece things together. "With the last story she wrote, did the names match up with the band members?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like, Johnny Rotten was the front man - Cafferty was the one talking up a big game. Malcolm McLaren was the manager - maybe he's the one behind all this."

"I didn't know you knew punk music, Rizzoli." She shrugged.

"Its not like they're some obscure band that no one's ever heard of. Besides, there's a Gary Oldman movie all about them too." She looked over at Frost who was busy trying to match numbers to names. "Somethings up here though." She looked at the planner they had found in Mecham's apartment "The days that she's meeting them on - Lewis and Davison both got killed after she met someone. But she hadn't met _them._ The same two guys at every crime scene - you think they're in that mix?" She looked at the giant whiteboard with all their leads up there. "And Cafferty and Meacham were beaten before they were killed, but Lewis and Davison weren't. Lewis _was_ sedatated though-"

"Which means whoever killed Lewis and Davison knew what they knew already. There wasn't any information to get out of them."

"Uh guys? You're not going to like this - the phone that's in here as Malcolm? Its registered to an Ira Levitt."

"Like as in the L in KLW?"

"Like as in the L in KLW."

"No wonder the KLW lawyers keep stonewalling us. So what, you think this is some big drug smuggling thing?" She nodded at Korsak. "So how do the others fit in here? You've got two guys who have been doing all the dirty work for KLW, and who killed our four vics. We've got almost as many questions here as we have answers. Like how does Borjokewicz fit into this? He was a good cop, I can't think of anything that'd make him go dirty."

"It could've just been a one time thing. Switch your shift, take a payout, no ones the wiser."

"Why would he run then? He could just say he didn't know anything." She folded her arms in front of her as she stared at the whiteboard with all of their leads listed on it as though something would jump out at her. "Something tells me whoever's playing Nancy is the key to all this."

"Phone's a burner. Only calls were to Ira Levitt, Ken Powers - the head of Wooten Telecom - and Meacham. And one odd one to St. Hedwig's school." She stared at the call stats.

"Right when school is letting out, too." She watched Korsak blanch slightly.

"Phil and Nadine have a little girl that goes there. And I'm pretty sure Nadine worked for Wooten Telecom too." She frowned, not liking that there was yet another link provving a cop was dirty. After all, there was dirty, like taking the occasional fifty to let someone skate on a ticket, and then there was _dirty._ And Borjokewicz was starting to stink more and more like Marino the more they probed. She almost thought Korsak was just trying to change the subject and escape the conversation about someone he thought he knew being dirty when he pointed out her mother. And kid.

"What the-" she was scowling as she looked up to find Angela was, in fact, standing in the lobby of the precinct, looking enitrly too comfortable around her boss for her liking. And holding entirely too much of her child for her liking. Striding over perhaps a little more brusquely than was called for, she simply fixed her mother with a Look. The sort of look that required capitilasation. Unfortunately, her mother seemed to be immune to her Look and simply handed Kit off without so much as a _hello._ "Ma, c'mon, what are you doing here?"

She definitely did not like the fact that she could see Frost and Korsak coming up behind her, trailed slightly by Cooper. "Hey Rizzoli, you've had this kid for what, six months now and never introduced him to his uncles Frost and Korsak?"

"I've been trying to avoid scarring him for life."

"Very funny." She handed Kit off to Frosts' outstretched hands, feeling that pang of something she was starting to realize was a maternal instinct taking hold as she watched a set of almost-too-large for a tiny face brown eyes search for hers after being deposited into this unfamiliar man's arms. It would have almost been sweet had it not been occurring at work. "See, he knows that I am totally awesome."

"Either that or he's too terrified to react."

"That'd be if he was in your hands old man." She watched Frost and Korsak banter like a bunch of old hens as they looked at the kid. She took the moment to listen to her mother's apology and explination, finding another reason to hate Crowe. So there were more detectives than just them, and far fewer MEs than homicides, but it didn't mean that she liked the current game of hot potato involving her son. From Maura to her mother and now - well, she couldn't just have the kid hanging around either the cafe or the homicide bullpen.

Cavanaugh, luckily seemed to catch on to her plight looking amusedly over at Korsak and Frost himself. "Hear you caught a break."

"Not a good one, but yeah."

"Anything that requires you to be here to work it?" She shrugged. There was just as much putting the pieces together she could do at home as she could here, but at least here she had three other sounding boards. "Go home, and take that thing with you before these two knuckleheads go soft on me." She could see the lieutenant trying hard to fight off a smile as he looked between her and where Frost and Korsak were huddled around Kit. She gave a mock salute finding two different sides of herself warring. One was the part of her that was glad to get to go home and spend time with her son, a side that still felt new, foreign, _wrong_: and the other side of her that was telling her to keep working until they had something. It felt almost wrong to give in to side A, but she didn't have much choice. It was a battle of everything she had poured her life into and everything her life had become over the last few months.

But when Frost handed Kit back to her she felt something shift and give way. Her life was something more than just the job now. She had so much more to care about than just catching the bad guys. She had Maura and their son. And somehow, as foreign as the feeling of putting her family first was, she didn't want to fight it. It went against everything she had built her life up to be, but she found herself thinking maybe she'd spent the last thirty six years buiding up the wrong parts of her life. _This_, the whole family thing, it was new, it was different, and while she wasn't exactly the poster child of _handling change well _now that she'd gotten used to it, she definitely was starting to like it. And she was definitely done with fighting it.


	37. Chapter 37

A/N and here's the thanksgiving chapter, coming to you from the runway of Denver airport. (Don't tell the flight attendants)

She was surprised to find the week and a half that passed between their break in the case and thanksgiving to be largely uneventful. Right now they were waiting on the BPD's forensic accountant to try and piece together the information they had to see if any discrepencies could be found. Something, anything to prove her gut instinct correct. Everything else they had was met with the giant brick stonewall of a catch 22 and KLW's lawyers. They needed a search warrant to get their hands on what was likely enough evidence to bring the whole group down, but they needed evidence to get a search warrant.

So when the fourth Thursday in November dawned, she found it becoming an easy topic of conversation as they sat in the living room, football playing in the background and the rest of homicide sipping beer, having long since been kicked out of the kitchen by her mother and Maura. it was almost amusing, sitting their discussing a quadruple homicide and bouncing theories off of each other while waiting for the turkey to get served like they were talking about the weather. But given that Korsak and Frost and Cooper had nothing else to do for the holiday, there was no point in wasting the time.

The fact that she was sitting there trying to figure out who the best leads on their two henchmen were, going through what sparse employee records they'd been able to get their hands on before meeting the brick wall of six hundred dollar an hour lawyers with the few photos they'd gotten from security footage on Thanksgiving was bad enough. That she was doing it while bouncing a five month old on her knee - well, she'd thrown in the towel on anything resembling a normal life.

She was surprised how well Kit was holding up as well, being passed around like a novelty. Then again, she supposed he was, in a sense. No one had ever expected her to wind up with a kid. _She _hadn't ever expected herself to wind up with a kid. And yet, here she was. Sitting in the living room with her son while her mother and her - well, whatever Maura was, made Thanksgiving dinner. She supposed they really should sit down and talk about what this shift in their relationship really meant. If any of the other assembled had even noticed that something had changed between herself and Maura, none of them said anything. Then again, at work, they were very much the same. It had been an unspoken arrangement, after all, they were both professionals, and the closest they had come to making all that they had become known was a _love you_ absentmindedly tacked on to a _see you later._

They still had yet to define what exactly they were, though. They simply - were. And she was more than fine with that. Even though now that the newness of it had sort of worn off slightly, she felt happier than she could remember being in a long time. It was nice to fall asleep curled around someone else. Nice to sit back on the couch and mindlessly run her fingers through soft honey colored hair while a warm head rested on her thigh. And what scared her the most was that she was finding it was nice to think of things in terms larger than herself. To realize that she wasn't thinking of this as Thanksgiving at Maura's like she had the year before, but rather, _they_ were hosting the holiday for everyone. That the little boy that was currently grabbing and pulling at Frankie's radio cord while her brother held on to a chubby little waist was _theirs._

Any progress they were making on the case was halted by her mother who insisted that it was bad enough Frankie was on call and forced to be in full uniform, she wasn't going to allow work talk at the table for a holiday dinner. Honestly, she thought her brother was getting the short end of the stick, between being on call, winding up with Kit spitting up on him and their mother kicking him in the shin. Granted, that last one was deserved, and had she not been too busy trying to hang on to what little dignity she had she would have done it herself. So what if she and Maura had traded a glance when the rest of the group had insisted upon the silly tradition of goint around the table and saying what they were thankful for? Even if they _had_ looked first at each other and then at where Kit was sitting in his high chair, it certainly didn't warrant having someone mime gagging themselves with a spoon.

Korsak and Frost wisely bit their tongues at the sight. They had learned quickly that while it was perfectly all right to ooh and ah over the kid himself, commenting on Jane with the kid was something that was likely to end with them having their child producing bits removed, painfully. She was proud to be doing a damn fine job raising Kit, and she took commments on how big, smart, or healthy he was in stride, and was fairly sure that even if she hadn't come around to actually wanting to be a mother to him that she would take such comments the same way. But while she was now set on doing everything she could to make sure Kit had an awesome lifw for the entirety of his life, it didn't mean she'd tolerate either of them being called cute, adorable, or any comments about her finally being "girly" for once.

She didn't stop being Jane Rizzoli just because she had become a mother. She was still the same surly, sarcastic, tomboy she had always been. Just because she'd found someone willing to put up with her warts and all and raise a child with her, it didn't change who she was. She woke up every morning feeling the same as she always had. She was still the best damn homicide detective in Boston. She just now also had a family.

And it was those finely tuned detective skills that had her noticing the figure skulking about the front yard somewhere between the second helpings of green bean casserole and pumpkin pie. Taking a quick glance around the table, satisfied that everyone was fully engrossed in conversation, she slipped out the door, finding her suspicions confirmed. "What are you doing here?" She was trying to keep her tone polite, civil, even, as she stared down the blonde.

She was trying her best to keep the icy tendril of fear that was wrapping itself around her stomach at bay, but there were dozens of possible scenarios playing out in her head. She knew full well that the papers she had signed her name to wouldn't stand a snowballs chance in hell if the woman in front of her decided to challenge them. Tommy, well she knew her brother wouldn't make an effort to disrupt things, but Lydia - this was an unknown. _This_ was the reason why she had fought so hard against actually caring about the kid. _This_ was something she knew was going to come. Why couldn't it have happened two weeks ago, though?

She should have known the woman would come back. She _had_ known the woman would come back. But Maura - Maura had grown so attached to Kit. And Maura - the woman was still innocent to believe the best of the world. It was one of the things she loved. But this was why she hadn't wanted to get attached. It hadn't been a question of _if_ it had been a question of _when._ She wouldn't dare gloat about being right though. This new depth to their relationship had been tenuously forged around the kid. And if nothing else, now that she had discovered what love - real, pure, honest, _grow old together_ love was, she wasn't going to do anything to further risk losing that. "Detective Rizzoli?" There was an almost concerned look on Lydia's face. "Are you ok?"

"What?" She hadn't even realized shed gotten lost in her own thoughts.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come. Its just - its Thanksgiving, and I just - I wanted to see that I made the right choice." She blinked. This, well, it wasn't what she was expecting when she saw Lydia out front. "He looks so happy." She looked behind her to where Lydia could see in to the dining room, where Kit was grinning in his high chair, taking in all the action around him.

"He is." She definitely didn't expect the warm smile she got.

"I came back to Boston because Frank had said Angela was a great mother and I wanted to learn from her. But I - he's better here. Thank you, Detective Rizzoli. You and Doctor Isles, you're so much better for him than I would be. Just - would you let me know he's doing alright?" She found a slip of paper shoved into her hand.

"I uh - do you -" she wasn't quite sure what to do, honestly. She had just braced herself to have to give Kit back, to have Lydia saying she just wanted to see how happy he was with her own two eyes? Well, to say she was a little jarred was a bit like calling water wet.

"I'm going back to Florida. Its nicer there. Thank you, though, again. I just want him happy." There was another paper waved in her face, and this one she recognized as a boarding pass. "I should get to the airport." She nodded, dumbstruck, unsure of what else to say. She was saved by the front door opening again, and she turned to find Maura there, a tupperware in hand.

"This is for you." Maura said simply, handing the leftovers out to Lydia.

"Oh no, I couldn't -"

"What's Thanksgiving without turkey? Please, I insist." She found her arm wrapping instinctively around Maura's waist as the woman came to stand next to her.

"I - thank you. But what about the tupperware?" Maura's laugh was warm, lovving.

"What you've given us is far more valuable than a few cents of plastic. Thank you." She placed a kiss to Maura's temple, her own silent acknowledgement of it.

"Well it is thanksgiving. I guess we're all thankful." And she was fairly sure it was the most intelligent thing Lydia had ever said.


	38. Chapter 38

A/N so this was meant to be posted before 3x11 aired and then I passed out between 4 and 8. Enjoy. 3x11-3x15 will be taken with a grain of salt with what I include or not.

She sighed as she leaned against the counter, kicking the dishwasher door shut and throwing the latch on it. This was why shed been glad about having an apartment. She never had to host the holidays. She found her attention drawn to Maura, who was juggling Kit, Kit's nighttime bottle, and a telephone. It didn't take a detective to figure out that Constance Isles was on the other end of the line, and she did her best to finish cleaning up from thanksgiving without intruding on privacy.

So once all the dishes were sloshing away with a quiet hum in the washer, she wordlessly took Kit from Maura and settled into the living room. The Pats game was able to half entertain her, and keeping the other half of her attention focused on the five month old that was currently doing a damn good job of figuring out the whole crawling thing. Kid had figured out how to hold himself upright, but hadn't quite come to the realization that he could use that posistion to move. Jo seemed more excitied than shed ever seen the terrier - having someone else small and on all fours seemed to endear the kid to the dog.

She surveyed the living room, trying to remember how the place was decorated this time the year before. While she definitely recalled the place having some festive cheer, there was a distinct lack of lights or tree. Well, that was certainly going to have to change. She found herself considering what she was willing to compromise on. She'd be fine with a fake tree, so long as it wasn't one of those pre-lit ones. She was fairly sure so long as they went for "tasteful" she could talk Maura into decorating outside as well. She'd spent the last thirteen years of her life living in apartments with hardly enough room for a tree that would be envious of the one Charlie Brown picked out, to have a house to decorate now -the part of her that still loved the holidays had been brought out of it had been hiding.

After all, some of her fondest childhood memories were of the weekend after Thanksgiving, picking out a tree, helping her father hang the lights from the roof, dangling ornaments from evergreen branches with her mother and brothers. She was going to make damn sure her son would grow up with those same fond memories. She glanced briefly at the kitchen as she heard an uncharacteristically sharp and loud _no, mother_ echoed out, followed by something that while in a language she could only understand one word in ten in, there was no mistaking the tone. Whatever Maura and Constance had been discussing had taken a distinct turn for the irate. And the French. And French was definitely a language that made _irate _very noticable. So much for a pleasant _happy holidays_ call.

She tried her best to ignore the one end of the conversation she could hear, knowing full well from expierence that it was never fair to judge conversations with mothers based on only one side or the other. Especially not when those conversations moved to other languages. But her intention on staying out of things was stopped as she watched Jo run a lap around the coffee table before dropping a tennis ball just out of Kit's reach. The boy looked at the slobbery ball for a moment before reaching forward for it and coming up just short. But there was a moment where she could see determination cross a tiny brow as the other hand came forward.

A tiny, months-old chest hit the floor for a moment before two legs were pulled closer underneath him as he balanced on hands and knees again, this time slightly closer to the ball. The same three moves were repeated one more time before a little hand wrapped triumphantly around a ball and she felt another surge of an emotion she was quickly coming to realize was sheer maternal pride. She watched as he looked at the ball before handing it out again towards Jo, who bumped it again with a small wet nose. "Hey, Maur-" she didn't particularly want to interrupt, but she had a feeling she'd never hear the end of it if she didn't.

She watched an agitated blonde head peek in, get one decent glimpse at what was going on, and there was something muttered into the phone before Maura was next to her, phone quickly repurposed from thing drawing ire to recording Kit's first few unstable lurches as boy and dog put together some sort of twisted backwards game of fetch. She couldn't help the beaming grin as she wrapped an arm around Maura's waist, pulling the woman towards her, giving room for Maura to find purchase on the arm of the sofa. "He's like a little marine, with that whole army crawl thing he's doing." She felt a pinch to her arm and flinched. "What was that for?"

"Suggesting a violent career path."

"Maura, in case you haven't looked at his family recently - me, _cop_, Frankie, _cop_. Tommy, _runs people over, _you, _cuts open dead people._ You're complaining cause I joke about him being awesome at the mud crawl?" There was another pinch and she grinned as she tried to swat away the hand in question, ending only when her attempt to shrug out of the way resulted in Maura losing balance on the arm of the sofa and falling on top of her. She found her other arm coming around to hold Maura fast around the waist, placing a gentle kiss to the expanse of neck she was greeted with.

"I'd like to think he's bound for something less violent than any of our chosen career paths." There was a long moment before she could feel the tension sink back in to Maura's form.

"Everything OK?" She asked, nuzzling her nose behind an ear.

"That was the first time I've spoken to my mother in eight months." She frowned as she realized that this was likely then the first time Constance had been told about Kit, about all the changes that came with Kit, and obviously things did not go as smoothly as they had with her own mother. "She means well, but she thinks -" She could feel Maura's inner struggle. An attempt to whitewash things, and she knew anything the woman said would be a carefully collected thought designed to make neither Isles seem at fault.

"Maura -" She felt the woman shift slightly against her, felt a face come to rest in the crook of her neck, felt hot tear tracks against her shoulder, and simply tightened her grip.

"She just wants to prevent me from making the same mistakes she did." She laid a gentle kiss to the only part she could reach, the top of a head.

"You're not your parents. And Kit's going to grow up loved, and amazing, and we're going to be the ones to do it." She looked down at where the kid was mouthing the tennis ball, deciding that Maura didn't need that bit of information. "Don't doubt this. Kit is going to grow up awesome." There was a watery-eyed smile meeting her own."Don't think about what you missed out on. Think about how much awesome you're going to give this kid" she laid anothwr kiss to the top of a head, doind all she could to impart that this was what she really felt. She was going to ensure that Kit had the best of everything, and that included the best of Maura.


	39. Chapter 39

A/N apologies for the delay. I am technologically impared, and am back to only a smartphone as a computer-like device. And I managed to have to reformat my SD card, which means that I lost what I had been working on. Thank you all so much for sticking with this, and we're actually getting somewhere with the plot!

She frowned as she looked out the window of the unmarked she was sitting in. The last week had been absolutely miserable. Between her mother deciding to use Black Friday as an excuse to go baby crazy, adding at least a dozen new things to the collection of baby related things in Kit's room - and part of her paused at the realization that she no longer thought of the place as the guest room, but rather as Kit's room, just as she no longer viewed the house as Maura's but as her own home as well.

Add to that the tension that Maura was trying so hard to hide, but was impossible not to notice. She had no clue what it was that Constance Isles had said, but whatever it was had Maura seemingly second-guessing any maternal abilities. Add to it the hassle of _another_ case, and she was near her breaking point.

Even if the other case was incredibly open-and-shut. What was so great about some toy that got two moms to shank each other over it? Hell, she _had_ a kid now and she couldn't see herself being so desperate to get a toy to even deal with black Friday crowds at all much less stab someone at six in the morning because they beat her to the lat one. And that thought hit her like a ton of bricks.

Not only did was she very much coming to terms with the fact that she had a son, she was already comparing herself to other parents. So long as she didn't start caving to the things that she had always sworn she wouldn't do when she had kids. She was still steadfast that her kid would never be the two year old pitching a fit that he couldn't have candy. He was definitely not going to grow up playing on a little league team where everyone won. He was going to grow up a tough little badass. Her son was going to be a _Rizzoli._

"Hey, partner, I'm not sure what's bothering you, but I'm pretty sure its not that pencil's fault." She scowled down at the pencil in her hand flexed nearly to its breaking point.

"Just - everything."

"Kid stuff?" She shrugged, scanning the scenery again. They'd gotten a call about a red KLW van, and two men that resembled their suspects. The van was currently parked out in front of a warehouse that was, unsurprisingly, another subsidary, but no sign of short and stocky or Mr. Fullback.

"Yes. No. Kinda." She admitted. Kit was surprisingly, not being too awful. There was the teething, but that wasn't nearly as bad as the colic had been. He was mostly sleeping through the night, was taking solid food surprisingly well and not being picky, getting the hang of the whole crawling thing and proving to be a rather inquisitive kid.

Clearly, he hadn't gotten the intelligence of either biological parent.

"So what's got you so tense?" Another shrug.

"I - Ever since Thanksgiving Maura's been like-" she trailed off, unsure of how much she wanted to divulge. After all, she wasn't even sure what was wromg with Maura. Just that the woman seemed distant. Suddenly unsure of everything. "Its like the same way I was when we first wound up with Kit. Its - weird. She's like - she's the one that's actually good with the motherhood shit and -"

"Have you _asked_ her what's wrong?"

"Well, I -"

"Y'know relationships kinda require this thing called talking. Usually helps."

"Thank you, Dr. Phil."

"Hey, I'm doing my part to help everyone. No one wants to deal with you the way you were before you had a kid and a girlfriend." She blinked staring at Frost. They hadn't exactly told anyone outside of her mother and Frankie that somewhere along the way they'd crossed the line from _best friends_ to _lovers._ "You don't have to look at me like a fish out of water. You've spent the last month with that _I'm getting laid_ look about you." She could feel her cheeks burning. "Good for you, Rizzoli. And thanks."

"For what?"

"I had fifty bucks riding on the two of you finally hooking up before Thanksgiving." She stared at her partner.

"What!?"

"Hey, Korsak thought it'd happen within three weeks of you moving in to take care of the kid. Crowe thought you two were already together. why else do you think he made all the y'know - jokes."

"You mean why he's always calling me a dyke?"

"No, he does that just cause he's an asshole."

"I can't believe you guys had a betting pool on my sex life."

"Hey, I think its a good thing. You're - less - more -" She frowned at Frost. "I'll shut up now." She gave a slight snort of laughter before movement caught her eye. She gestured, watching as a man who made Danny DeVito look statuesque come out of one of the loading bay doors, and handed the binoculars across the car so Frost could get a look. "And Mr. Fullback is with him."

"You think we should go after them?" They looked between them. It was pretty obvious that whatever Thug1 and Thug2 had come to the warehouse for it was unloading something, not loading. "Get us a warrant for that warehouse. I'm gonna get a better look." She slid quietly from the passenger seat of the unmarked, creeping down the alley next to the warehouse, thankful for the waist-height brick wall that allowed her to stealthily crouch and observe what was going on.

"I'm really not liking this, Dave. It was one thing when I was just asked to get rid of a body and make it look like a mob hit. They don't think its the mob anymore. You heard Mr. Levitt. They know its us." Mr. Fullback was concerned. That was a good thing.

"Yeah, well Phil, you don't got a say in what it is we do. You do what Mr. Levitt tels you to. That was the terms." Short and stocky even sounded like DeVito. Had it not been for the comforting weight of her gun in her hand, she would have thought she was watching some bad crime movie.

"I didn't think it'd be like this though. If I knew it was going to be like this - fuck, I woulda pulled out my pension, remortgaged the house. I had ten years in, Dave. It was one thing to risk that to steal a goddamned flash drive and get rid of a body, but he's asking us - dammit, I might as well be working for Doyle at this point."

"Yeah, but Doyle can't - couldn't even when he was in power - relocate your family when this is all over with and you cops drop it better than the damned witness protection program. We're not going to send you and Nadne to be some fucking Amish cunts. Just see this shit through and everything's going to work itself out." She gasped as realized that Mr. Fullback was Borjokewicz. "The fuck was that?"

"Probably a cat or some shit, c'mon" She held her breath for a second, afraid of being found.

"You're right, but better safe than sorry. That fucking crackhead was running his mouth left and right about what he'd worked out with Mr. Levitt. Your car's around back, right? I'm gonna go take the van back. You take a look." She tensed, looking at her options. Frost was somewhere behind her and she pulled her phone off her belt, hitting speeddial 4, and watched the van pull away.

Deciding that the element of surprise was her friend, she took a deep, steadying breath as she listened to the footsteps drawing closer before springing up from where she was crouching. "Police!" She shouted, gun drawn. She really would rather not fire on one of their own, not if she could help it. Not until she heard his story. There was a moment of stunned silence before Borjokewicz vaulted the wall next to her and took off down the alley.

She gave chase, wondering where the fuck her partner was. Borjokewicz had the advantage, knowing the alley, dodging through trash cans and causing her to put hurdling skills she hadn't practiced since her sophomore year of high school to use. At least he hadn't fired on her, even though she could see he was armed as well. The instinct to avoid friendly fire ran deep. She swore as he reached the chain link fence that demarkated the end of the alley and scrambled over it. She did the same, hampered by her refusal to holster her weapon, and as she reached the top of the ten foot tall fence, she instantly regretted it. Feeling the top of the fence catch her pants as she went to try and execute the same leap, tuck, and roll that their suspect had. "Oh fuck" she muttered as she felt herself pitch forward, pants still tangled in the fence, sending he face first into the six foot wooden fence behind it.

She winced as she could feel the blood already starting to drip from her nose, and managed to brace herself just in time as she felt the cloth holding her up give way, sending her sliding to the ground along the side of the fence, Borjokewicz long since gone. "Rizzoli? Jane!" She managed to stand, feeling her side burst out in pain as she did so, hating that _now_ Frost made his appearance.

"Other side of the fence!" She called back. There was a moment before her partner appeared coming in the other end of the alley. She could see his lips twitch upwards and immediately silenced anything he would have said with a glare. She could feel blood dripping down her leg where it had fought with the fence, another gouge on her shoulder where it had discovered _why_ picket fences were called such, and her nose, which she was relatively sure hadn't been broken again, but was still sore and bleeding.

"I got the warrant for the warehouse. I tried tailing the KLW van, but he made me and managed to dissappear into traffic."

"Fuck." Feeling the frustration welling inside of her, she kicked at a trash can next to her, trying to find a physical outlet for it. "Fuck!" She repeated, this time much louder. "Mr. Fullback, it's Borjokewicz. I nearly had him, but bastard can _move_. He just lept off of that and kept running. They've got him by the balls for something - I think he's into them for a lot of cash. Said something about he woulda rather remortgaged his house.' She was scowling as she headed towards the end of the alley, fully intending to go and see what was in the warehouse.

"Jane - Korsak and CSRU are on the way."

"Yeah?" She wasn't following what Frost was getting at.

"You might wanna let us handle it for a second. You know - go change." She blinked as she looked down. Ok, so maybe Frost had a point. Her right pants leg was completely shredded, and her shirt was ripped and torn where she'd slid down the wooden was a set of keys tossed in her direction and she slupped into the cruiser.

"I'll be right back!" She shouted as she put the car in gear. Looking at her reflection in the rearview mirror, she winced. Maura was going to kill her when the details got out.


End file.
